#Nourishing hair after coloring

[fithealth-goals]

Stronger, Healthier Nails: My Positive Experience with Pro Nail Complex

For years, I battled weak, brittle nails that chipped and peeled easily. It was frustrating and made me self-conscious. I tried various strengthening treatments and polishes, but nothing seemed to make a lasting difference.

Then, I discovered ProNail Complex. With its focus on promoting healthy nail growth from the inside out, it piqued my interest. After reading reviews and learning about its natural ingredients, I decided to give it a try. Here's how ProNail Complex has transformed my nails for the better.

Nourishing Nails from Within

One of the things that impressed me most about ProNail Complex was its focus on internal nail health. It contains essential vitamins and minerals like Biotin, Zinc, and Selenium, all known to contribute to healthy hair, skin, and nails.

By nourishing my nails from within, ProNail Complex addressed the root cause of the problem, not just the symptoms. This approach made sense to me, and I was eager to see the results.

Visible Improvements in Strength and Growth

Within a few weeks of taking ProNail Complex daily, I started noticing a positive change. My nails felt noticeably stronger and less prone to breakage. They were also growing faster, allowing me to maintain a longer length without chipping or peeling.

This newfound strength and growth were a game-changer. I could finally experiment with different nail polish colors and styles without worrying about them breaking or looking unsightly. It was a small thing, but it made a big difference in my confidence.

Healthier Nails, Healthier Look

Beyond the aesthetic benefits, ProNail Complex also contributed to the overall health of my nails. The ridges and unevenness that I used to struggle with diminished significantly. My nails looked smoother and healthier, adding a touch of polish to my overall appearance.

Convenient Daily Dosage

ProNail Complex comes in easy-to-swallow capsules. The recommended dosage is just two capsules a day, making it a simple addition to my daily routine. I never forget to take them, and the capsules are small and easy to swallow.

An Investment in Healthy Nails

ProNail Complex has been an investment in my overall well-being. It's not just about having pretty nails; it's about taking care of my body from the inside out. With stronger, healthier nails, I feel more confident and put-together.

If you're struggling with weak, brittle nails, I highly recommend giving Pro Nail Complex a try. It might just be the solution you've been looking for. Remember, while this review reflects my experience, it's always a good idea to consult your doctor before starting any new supplement program.

[minkieater]

sweat — jyh ˚ · .

p. jeong yunho x fem!reader w. smut mdni, sweat kink kinda went crazy here, can't help but write yunho rough it just comes out of me wc. 3.2k

a bare face, disheveled hair and scarlet tipped ears greeted you in the bedroom, two hours after you’d last seen him. his puffy eyes were low from exertion, his strenuous workout was ultimately for him but you couldn’t pretend it didn’t benefit you, too. your eyes caught the sweat that sparkled across his skin, the warm light from the side table lamp making it appear like a second layer of a golden sheen — nothing short of a gift that the hotel’s gym provided you. his chocolate brown shirt hung loose and baggy, definitely damp by this point, crumpled at the bottom hem from how many times he’d pat his face dry with it during his session. his shorts sat just at mid thigh, shorts you’d bought for him just for this purpose, coming back to you in your hotel room after a late night workout.

“check out my pump,” he flexed his biceps with a proud smile, looking at his arms that he held up on either side of his face. such an adorable action, the opposite of how he looked right now, so massive and so manly.

you didn’t answer, you couldn’t answer, too entranced by how he spawned in your bedroom looking effortlessly godlike. it was sinister, it should be illegal, an article written somewhere in the federal register that jeong yunho shouldn’t be able to look this fucking good. 

the sweat that laid across his skin made him look so edible, so delicious, you knew that taste all too well — the warm saltiness tangled with a hint of him, it was your favorite flavor, you could eat it all day and all night. the ruby red flush to his ears, his cheeks and his nose you wanted to bottle up, put in a tube so you could wear it like lipgloss. maybe chapstick instead so you could put it on him, get his lips back to their usual luster, nourish them so you could kiss him until they were chapped once again.

his hair being so abnormally fucked up only made you think of one thing, how you wanted to sink your fingers into his hair, see the muddy olive brown colored locks between your fingers, tugging at his roots so he’d tell you to pull them harder. you were working yourself up in your head, staring at him through lidded eyes from the comfort of the white bed sheets, it only took seconds of ogling for yunho to read your thoughts as if you said them out loud. 

he scratched his head with one eye shut, a knowing smile playing on his lips, “i should do that workout more often if you’re gonna react like this, i feel like you’re gonna pounce on me.” 

a sound of amusement leaves your lips as you lift one hand, curling your index finger towards yourself to say get your ass over here. 

“i’m all sweaty, we have to sleep there,” he cringed, “i’m gonna shower, care to join?” 

you hopped up at a speed comparable to light despite the fact that your hair was still wet from the shower you just took, but you’d take another, you’d do anything he asked. yunho chuckled as he made his way to the bathroom, flicking on the lights, the loud hum of the fan filling the space. 

“come here,” you murmured when you entered the bathroom hot on his tail, the order sounding like a plea as you tugged at his shirt, pulling him down to your height. 

he was still smiling as your lips met, he brought his hands up to your cheeks, cupping them as his palms completely enveloped your face, fingers going deep into your hair. you were obsessed with him, the size of him, how every part of him seemed to be double of what you were. it made you dizzy, unlocked a part of you that you didn’t realize was laying dormant until you met him, ushering him to do anything to prove how big he actually is, to show you how small he could make you feel. 

you switched to kiss his jaw, tongue lolling out to lick at his skin, tasting the sweet concoction of sweat and yunho that tased like the fountain of youth. it kept you awake, kept you alive, added fuel to the fire of need that started to spread through your gut like a lit match in a dry forest. you moved his hands down your waist to your ass as you licked up the column of his throat and he groaned, lifting you up with those massive twin palms and placing you flat on the counter. 

your lips met again and he smirked into the kiss before detaching for a moment, “couldn’t even wait for me to turn the shower on?”

“can you blame me?” you asked with a sweet smile as you spread your legs atop the counter, already wearing nothing underneath the white hotel robe, as if you’d planned jumping him as soon as he got back. 

the air hit your core and you shivered, yunho taking his place right between your knees as if he felt it, the wetness that caught the draft. his hips were still taller than yours as he stood in front of you and you could moan just at the sight, the mere thought of your giant of a boyfriend. 

“my eager girl,” he hummed as he attached your lips again, fingers running up your calves, over your thighs that laid flush against the counter. he let them slip under the robe, fingers gripping your hips, squeezing as he pressed his abdomen against you from the distance he’d closed. 

“more,” you moaned into his lips at his touch, back arching into him. you could smell the sweat coming off of him, through his shirt, on his skin, in his hair. if you weren’t so horny you’d feel a little concerned about how much it affected you, mouth watering as the scent hit your nostrils. “please,” you begged, your hands coming up his forearms to squeeze at his biceps, back arching impossibly farther to collide your chest with his abdomen. 

“only because you said please,” his voice was ragged as he rested his forehead against yours, slipping a hand from under the robe and bringing it in front of you, running the pads of his fingers over the tops of your thighs, quickly coming closer to your core. you gasped in anticipation, hips bucking up to give him access. he didn’t let his fingers go farther, though, instead they trailed up over your stomach to the tie of your robe, playing with the knot you tied when you hoped out of the shower. 

you whined, an impatient, annoying noise, one that yunho loved so fucking much. his smirk returned at the sound, taking his time as he untied the knot, tugging lightly at the fabric fastened across your waist, using little to no force to drag it out solely to frustrate you further. 

“yunho, please,” you begged, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes where you found a pair of puffy, chocolate brown glazed over eyes staring right back down at you. 

he saw the need in your eyes, the way your eyebrows furrowed, how you took your bottom lip just between your teeth and his resolve was gone. he used both of his hands to tug it free with no effort, slipping the robe off of your shoulders, leaving you bare for him atop the bathroom counter. 

he groaned again from low in his gut, a choked sound, “so fucking sexy.” 

your head tilted back with a muddled moan as his hands swallowed your boobs, squeezing at the fat, rolling his thumbs over your nipples, biting his own lip when they hardened under his touch. his hands slipped down to your waist and he kissed you again, running his hands over your skin, the pads of his fingers leaving dainty touches across your hips and thighs. 

you reached between your bodies, you opted to grab for him instead, feeling his already hardened length in your palm. yunho physically shivered, hips bucking into your hand with a small noise, one that not just anyone would catch if they didn’t know yunho like the back of their hand. you did, you knew it was a sound of lust, a noise that meant please keep going. 

you palmed him through his shorts, the shorts that you bought because they were shorter than the rest of his collection, ones that showed off his thigh muscle so perfectly. you leaned up and attached your tongue to his neck again, a different spot that you hadn’t tasted yet, hadn’t licked the sweat clean off of it. you hummed in delight, working your hand faster over his shorts as his head hung loose, small groans and puffs of air leaving his lips.

“taste so good,” you mumbled between licks to his neck, sucking at small spots, easily leaving bruises across his skin. how his makeup artist would have to cover that up, you didn’t care. your hands went to the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, marveling at the damp cloth in your hands, hoping he didn’t notice how you took your time or how you had to physically stop yourself from bringing it up to your nose. 

of course he noticed, the revelation gave yunho back the upper hand, his smirk returned to his face as he said, “yeah? you like it when i’m all sweaty baby?”

after years of being together he knows this, you’ve licked the sweat off of all of him numerous times, but it still affected yunho the same every single time you did, and he never hesitated to tease you for it. you mumbled a mhm as you raked your hands over his abdomen, his chest, the skin that was dry by now but still slightly sticky. 

his hands gripped your hips again, right at the crease of where your thigh met your hip and you jumped, bucking your hips towards him once more. your ass was right on the ledge of the sink and you would’ve fallen right back into it if his grip wasn’t so tight. he kept one hand on your hip as the other dragged closer to your core, ghosting over your center, thumb dangerously close to where you needed stimulation the most. 

you gasped, throwing a hand behind you on the sink, using it as leverage to open yourself up to him, let him get full access to where you needed him. he took a step back and looked you up and down, his eyes darker now, so low and glazed over with lust as he stared directly at your center. 

“such a pretty fucking pussy, this sight’ll never get old,” he shook his head and he braced his hands on the counter, right between your legs as he knelt down onto his knees. he moved his hands to grab at your thighs, holding them open as he wasted no time, licking a fat stripe up your center.

you threw the other arm behind you to keep you up and steady as you moaned, a long, languid noise at the stimulation. he made quick work of you, swirling his tongue between your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

“yes,” you moaned and threw your head back, arching your body up into him, bringing your feet up onto the counter to spread yourself impossibly wider for him. he took advantage, eating you like a man starved, letting his saliva trickle down your center and not bothering to lick it all back up. he created a rhythm quick, flicking his tongue over your clit, making you cry out for him, chanting his name like a mantra.

“close,” you cried, taking a hand to fist into his hair, the dampness of his locks only pushing you closer to the edge. the knot in your stomach only tightened further, bucking your hips into his face, and he didn’t pause for a moment. he followed your hips, keeping his lips wrapped tight around your clit, one devastatingly harsh suck made you lose control, had the knot snapping immediately. 

he rode you through it, keeping his rhythm until you forced his face off of you with a tight pull to his roots. he let go of you with a pop, eyes dazed, his head most definitely somewhere else. 

“should i turn the shower on?” he asked with a lazy smile then licked his lips, sitting back on his calves. you giggled, your body shivering as the chill of the room hit you again, your center wet and sticky and cold. 

you hopped down from the counter as he stood up, turning to the glass doors to turn the shower on. as he turned back to you you grabbed him by the neck, pulling him down to kiss him again. you wanted to taste him, all of him before the shower, before his sweat got washed off of him. 

“are you hungry or something?” he joked between kisses, a smile on his face, and you laughed in response. 

“just wanna taste you,” you answered as you dropped to your knees just as he did, a lot less gracefully. he paid no mind as his lips parted, eyes slightly furrowing as he realized what you were doing. 

you tugged his shorts down quick, the length of him springing up against his stomach, standing red and angry and leaking. you salivated, eyes widening at the sight, at the smell of sweaty, post workout yunho. it was delicious, desperation ran through you as if you’d never seen him before, never smelled his sweat before. 

you wrapped your lips around his head, sucking down every drop of precum he gave you, moaning at the taste. so salty, so fucking yunho, your center throbbed with desire even if you just came on his tongue. you spat it all back around him along with your own spit before you took him down your throat as much as you could, hands wrapping around his base, pumping whatever you couldn’t fit – you’d never be able to fit it all. 

he groaned, his hands flying to your head, hands tangling in the roots of your hair, tugging at it just to get a reaction from you. a gargled noise erupted from your throat, vibrating around him, making him stumble for a second as his abdomen clenched, six pack on full display. your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and his hand went to grab for the wall to keep him steady as you bobbed your head, tongue swirling on the underside of his length, hand squeezing his base. 

“you’re so fucking good at that,” he moaned, a gasp leaving his lips right after as your hand went to cup his balls, massaging them in your palm. “i’m gonna cum if you do that, baby, fuck.”

you smiled around his length, breathing through your nose, the smell of him combined with the steam filling the room was making you dizzy. your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, keeping your rhythm, gagging around him as you tried to take him deeper. 

his moans increased in pitch and you knew he was close, teetering at the edge of his release and you stopped, ripping your mouth off of him and putting your hands back at your sides. he whined, a sweet, high pitched noise as you sat back on your calves, a cocky smile sitting on your face as you wiped your lip with your thumb. 

“oh, you’re gonna regret that,” a low chuckle left his lips as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your entire body off the floor with one hand. you smiled, hoping this would happen, knowing all too well what happens when you edge him – what headspace it puts him into. 

“spent the whole fucking night waiting for me just to act like a brat?” he said as you stood up, his voice laced with venom, harsh and stern and so fucking sexy. “you were the one who wanted this, and you’re gonna tease me?” 

he turned you so you faced the massive mirror behind the sink, your hands shooting out to grab the counter, bracing yourself for what comes next. he kicked your ankles apart, spreading your legs, and pushed your chest down on the surface with his right hand wrapped around the back of your neck. 

you moaned, the noise slipping right through your lips, and he chuckled again, the same menacing kick to it. “that’s crazy, i sit you on the counter and make you cum in record time because you’re acting like a bitch in heat, and what do i get?”

“this is all planned then, huh? you acting like a desperate slut so you can get fucked like one?” he lined himself up with your center, quickly pushing in, making your head drop into the sink, a low cry leaving your lips. 

“pick that fucking head up and watch,” he reached for your hair, tugging at your roots, making you moan as he lifted your head to watch him through the mirror. his face is covered in sweat again, the steam from the room combined with the sheer energy it took to make you cum, get edged and bend you over the counter after a full workout. it only pushed you further, your center completely slick, he fucked into you harshly with no resistance, forming a brutal rhythm quick. 

your cries came out one after another, you looked fucked, face sweaty and your half dried hair a knotted wreck. he looked victorious behind you, an evil smile planted on his face as he drilled himself into you, your knees threatening to buckle. 

“too much,” you cried as your legs sagged, forcing yourself to stay upright, using the counter to put your weight on so he could fuck you with ease. 

he laughed instead of slowing down, “you fuckin’ asked for it, baby.”

you didn’t dare look away or let your eyes close as you watched his hand land a harsh slap against your ass, a wicked smile on his face as he watched it ripple under his skin, he loved this just as much as you did – maybe even more. 

you cried out, your head dropping for a moment at the impact before you picked it right back up, keeping your eyes focused on him as his eyebrows furrowed, clearly inching closer to his release. you weren’t far off, the knot in your stomach forming, the angle of him made him hit that spot inside you with each thrust. 

“fuck, i’m close,” he muttered as if on cue, his thrusts staggering, losing their rhythm as he picked up speed. 

“don’t stop,” you huffed out, you couldn’t afford to lose a hand on the counter, your clit begging to be touched. 

yunho knew, of course he knew – he knew you like the back of his hand yet he ignored it, solely focused on his release. a few more thrusts and he was emptying himself inside you, you were so close, right on the edge, your legs wobbling underneath you.

“yunho don’t you dare fucking stop,” you huffed out, your voice hoarse and harsh and he laughed again as his thrusts slowed. you brought a hand down to your core and he was quick to snatch your wrist, leaving you empty and frustrated, a loud whine leaving your mouth. 

“sucks, to be edged, huh?” he asked, holding your wrists behind your back, then planted a kiss to your cheek. 

“we should probably get in the shower now.”

[firewasabeast]

The Gift of Going Gray

When Tommy looks in the mirror, the man who looks back isn't the same one that used to be there.

Well, technically it is, but it's doesn't feel like it.

The man Tommy sees now is grayer than he used to be. He used to think about dying his hair when he was young, but he never did it. Now, his body is doing it for him.

He's excited to see what he looks like when every strand is silver. He hopes his beard matches.

He's got wrinkles and laughter lines. Marks and ripples and crevices every time he moves his face, which some may look at with hate. He sees it as a happy life well-lived. He hopes he gets more.

The hairs on his chest match his head, but they're far more sporadic. As he rubs lotion over his pecs, skin a little less willing to stay moisturized, he wonders if those hairs will look invisible against him once they've all lost all their pigmentation.

He pumps out a little more lotion and moisturizes his arms. Still big, still muscular, still strong, but they get sore easier now. Need a little extra recovery time between workouts. Can't survive without monthly massages anymore.

His stomach is different. What was once defined abs is now a soft belly, more nourished than it ever was before. He's not trying for abs anymore. Doesn't really feel a need for it. He's healthy, he knows that, and that's what matters.

His hands have little wrinkles. Barely noticeable unless you really look, but he takes the time to really look. They're rough and calloused from years of manual labor, but the newest addition is the most exciting. Barely there ridges that you can run your fingertips over. Veins that are easier to see than they used to be. Skin that's thinner easier to cut.

There's a tan line on his ring finger. Which in and of itself isn't a sign of aging, but it sure as hell feels like it.

He'd never felt more grown, more centered, more sure, than the day he said, “I do.”

That tan line is a part of him now. Will be there, right under his engraved, gold ring, even when he's laid to rest.

If he doesn't stretch first thing in the morning, his back is likely to lock up on him sometime during the day. His knees require Icy Hot mid-shift.

He got his first pair of reading glasses last year. He couldn't believe the difference. Now there are five different pairs of glasses lying around the house, another pair in the truck, and one kept in his locker at work just so he always has them.

Once he's finished with his lotion, he opens the medicine cabinet and grabs a colorful bottle. His doctor recommended he start taking a multi-vitamin. A special one for older men. He's not actually sure it does anything, but he knows it doesn't hurt anything, so he chews the gummy everyday. The strawberry ones are his favorite.

He remembers when he was young, he used to joke his grandma about how she was always cold. She's laugh along, but she told him that one day he'd get it. One day he'd get cold faster too.

He keeps a space heater in the bathroom now when he showers. Pajamas went from sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt to sweatpants and long sleeves. He keeps socks on almost all the time. The ones he wears at home have little rubber grips on the bottom so he doesn't slip up on the tile floor. They're a literal life saver.

While his grandma got jokes over being cold, his grandpa got jokes about having to get up to use the bathroom during the night. When they'd take Tommy on trips over the summer, his grandpa was always saying that he needed the bed closest to the bathroom. Now, Tommy takes the side of the bed closest to the bathroom. Sometimes, he stops drinking water after seven just so he can reduce midnight trips to the bathroom.

Some people think it's ridiculous, how much he enjoys growing old. But he's seen the alternative too many times. At work, sure, but also in life. So many people he knew and loved whose life was cut short before they ever learned what getting older meant.

Growing old was a gift. And Tommy was grateful for it.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Thirst for Sunshine

Pairing: Sorcerer!Gojō x Teen!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Bottomline is, Gojō Satoru was a jerk.

Warning: angst, unrequited love, suggested misogyny, jujutsu society stigma, arranged marriage, age gap

Word Count: 1183

2 of 9

It was not everyday that you were allowed to get out of your estate house to visit modern society.  You have been preparing for the day for weeks.  Your hand maidens helped you with your milk and rosewater baths.  Lathering your skin with the most nourishing of products and sealing the moisture with the finest shea butter.

You were like a dream.

With the brightest smile you can muster, you step out of your family car and step into the gates of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College alone.

Your betrothed, Gojō Satoru has been absorbed by the school as a staff the moment he graduated.  You hear that he has been thinking of working as a teacher in the school.  You are not certain how to feel about that.  Your fiancé is nothing short of a child, how would that turn out for his students?

Still, you wonder how he will manage.  It is a good opportunity for him.  To change his pace, mature a little.

You are glad to find out that the school has not changed that much.  When you were younger, your handmaidens accompanied you to watch Satoru in the Goodwill Events against Kyoto jujutsu high.  He always came out as the victor, much to his schoolmates' annoyance as he does not miss to make every single opportunity all about him.

He was too proud sometimes.  Charging alone when it was supposed to be a team effort, not that he loses. In fact, it makes him shine brighter.  Still, you worry that it might be that kind of attitude that will cause his downfall in the future.

To your right, you hear students yelling at each other as they train.  They were older than you but by the carefree smiles on their faces, you know they were only neophytes in the jujutsu society.  How you wish you could be one of them.  In a few months, you will be old enough to enroll in the school.  But your family would never allow it.

They prefer to keep you at home, training you in the arts of house making.  Including how to keep your husband happy and satisfied.

You shake the thoughts away, lest your face erupts to a wild flush.

You take a deep inhale to help in clearing your thoughts and you walk forward to Gojō’s office, with the box of blueberry cupcakes heavy on your arms.

The other staff in the school bow upon seeing you and you dip your head slightly to acknowledge them.  Your geta sandals softly clack against the wooden floor as your kimono swishes against the breeze.  Your family insisted that you wear traditional clothing wherever you go.  You cannot wait to wear ones that are in the colors of the Gojō banners.

As you turn the corner, you hear the rambunctious laughter of Gojō Satoru.

You hear no other voice inside his office and you can guess that he is on the phone, talking with someone.

Halting in your steps a few feet away from the door, you take a deep inhale.  Your hand is flying to your hair to straighten any stray strands.  You fan your face to get rid of the moisture after your long walk from the gates.

You made an attempt to straighten your kimono to check for any crease when Gojō’s voice startled you.

“You coming in or are you gonna stand there all day?”

It was incredibly foolish of you to not announce your presence, knowing that the man you are about to see possesses the six eyes.

“P-Pardon my intrusion.”  You say in a quivering voice.

Gently, you slide the door open and there Gojō was, lounging on his sofa, tapping away on his phone as his right leg was perched above the other, looking so carefree.

“Uhm…”  You hesitate by the door.  Awaiting his acknowledgement so you can enter.  But the man was still grinning at his phone, despite his eyes being covered by bandages.

Quietly and patiently, you stand there so still, the weight of the cupcake was starting to strain your arms.

“Gojō-sama?”  You call softly.

He hums, still not looking up at you.  “Sit.”  He nods at the sofa in front of him.

With much reluctance, you step in and close the door behind you.  Disappointment slowly replaces your excitement.  But you will yourself to sit in front of him.  You look up to find him still on his phone, a grin playing on his lips.  You nervously twirl at the band that kept the wrapping of your gift.

After a long moment of silence, Gojō sighs.  “You can put that by the table and you can take your leave afterwards.”

You look up from your lap, your brows now forming a frown.

“How…How have you been?”  You are desperate to lengthen your stay, trying to stretch it as much as you can.

He scratches at his head as he places his phone by the sofa.  “I’m well.”

You try to smile at him but it comes out a little forced, with your spirits already dampened.

“You can report back to your family that our chat went smoothly.  I’ll tell mine the same thing.”  He says in a matter that made you realize that your presence is not exactly welcome.

“Certainly.  I am terribly sorry for bothering you.”  You rise from the sofa, clasping your hands together to keep them from shaking.

Gojō gave a curt smile that did not reach his eyes.  “‘S fine.”  He made no effort to disagree with you, making you feel more awful.  He is a busy man, being the strongest sorcerer and all.  And here you were, taking up his rest time.

At least he was kind enough to open the door for you.  “Thanks for the snacks.”  He said rather flatly.

You were about to reply when loud footsteps heading your way echoed around the room.

“Gojō Satoru!  How dare you take the credit for my mission!”

An angry woman in miko clothing marches to the room, her hands gripping the door angrily.  She is covered by bandages and scratches.

What surprised you was the change in Gojō’s voice.  “Huh?  Can’t you just be grateful that your knight in shining armor saved the day?  Again?”  It was the most playful you have heard him speak.  You almost wanted to stay and watch them banter.

But the woman lunges at Gojō who uses his infinity to keep her away, yawning mockingly before he grins at her.

You cannot bear to stay another moment.

Quietly, you slip away and head towards the gate.  Your kimono held tightly in your hands to keep you from tripping.  Every step felt heavier and heavier as your chest tightened with every breath you take.  Soon enough, tears cascaded down your well powdered cheeks. 

Your handmaidens and guards that waited by the car felt the same sympathy for you and nothing but loathing for your fiancé but to save you from embarrassment, they spoke none about the events.

Gojō Satoru.  You are running out of excuses to stay in love with him.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

[mangionebabymama]

hey girl if it’s not too much for u, could u expand on a luigi spa day after a day where his back was being mildly annoying.

if possible maybe include some girly self care products you think he’d secretly love to indulge

🛁💭🎀💅

thank you so much xx

Oh, I’d love to, never thought you’d ask! I’d definitely love to write a fic of you pampering him though, omggggggg 🥺

But to start off, you’d set off the atmosphere for him. You’d dim the lights in the room, whether he’s laying in his room or settling in the bathroom, and light some scented candles. You’d play some soft instrumental music or some nature sounds to help him fully unwind. You’d even give a nice fluffy robe and some slippers to put on and feel comfortable in—especially if it’s a color he secretly likes.

Then, it’s all about helping him relax and relieve him from the pain. Giving him a bath infused with some Epsom salts to relax his muscles, maybe adding some oat or coconut milk to soften his skin, and some few drops of an essential oil—with a sprinkle of some rose petals or a bath bomb for an extra touch. While he sits there, you’d give him a gentle scalp massage to his pretty little curls and add on a nourishing hair mask. After the bath, you’d apply a heated compress or a back wrap to soothe the pain even more so. Then, you’d give him a longer, deeper back massage, maybe using some type of other oil for the inflammation and pain.

As much as he’d try to not to give in and admit how much he’d love to indulge, his body wouldn’t give in to enjoying the more ~girly~ self-care products. I think his favorites would be a face mask, following then a little facial massage with a jade roller or a gua shua—you could also use this on his back, if the pain was that bad and if he was comfortable with you working deep down into the tissues. He’d be hesitant, at first, but because you love him and he’d know that you’d want to take care of him, he’d let you even exfoliate his hands and feet with a sugar scrub, after you convince him how much it’ll make him feel better, especially with wrapping his feet in warm towels after applying lotion on them. Perhaps, you’d also convince him to let him try a lip mask, too, to include the full package of care and pampering. And before bed, you’d spritz some pillow mist of some sort for him, helping him sleep better.

[onlygarden]

[spring is beautiful, and it must end] - nishimura riki

genre: angst (im sorry)

description: a month after your breakup with ni-ki, he returns with the desire to revive your love.

a/n: i think this might be my favorite fic i’ve written so far. even the draft made me want to cry hehehhe

the soft, hesitant sound of a knock echoes through your house, gently luring you towards your front door. you comply with the request, twisting your door knob, and pulling the front door open in no hurry at all.

a slight breeze caresses your body, the tranquility of the warm wind nearly soothing you enough to distract you from the crisp chill that nipped your senses. ni-ki stood in front of you, the frigid air which surrounded him tangling with the comforting heat of the summer.

it had been a month since you’d seen him. one month since you’d decided you could no longer grow harmoniously with him.

the summer air drifts along ni-ki’s features, his hair dancing gracefully against his skin. you imagine it must tickle a bit.

he inhales sharply as his eyes float along your features, immersing himself in every crevice of every characteristic that made you. it felt like an eternity since he last laid his eyes on you.

“hey,” ni-ki says, his deep voice littered with gloom, “i’ve really missed you.”

the sound of ni-ki’s voice still sounded so familiar to you, and it would be dishonest for you to say that you didn’t miss him, too.

you sigh, tears already igniting beneath your eyes. your composure would give out quickly, it seemed. it hadn’t been very long since the love between the two of you had withered to an unsightly brown, after all.

“ni-ki,” you start, the hope for more words to leave your mouth dying as soon as ni-ki’s name tumbled across your lips. ‘i miss you, too’ and ‘i love you’ failing to reach his ears.

“noona, i just want you to know that i’m sorry. with every part of myself, i regret how i treated you,” he tells you. his eyes filled themselves with yours, swelling painfully with the desperation planted behind them.

you don’t recall ever seeing ni-ki wear such dejection. his posture was notably feeble, his usual confidence absent from his body.

he stares into the eyes he learned so well, gathering the conflicted sadness his words placed within them.

“i know we haven’t spent very much time apart, and i know how selfish i was, but i want to make things right,” ni-ki places both of his large hands around one of yours. you trembled underneath his touch, much like a flower.

“i couldn’t get used to my life without you. it made me realize, that, everything i need is you.” ni-ki squeezes your hand with just enough intensity to convey his ferocious yearning. his voice began to quiver, and his eyes ached from the tears which sat anxiously above his eyelids, begging not to fall.

“i want to show you how much i’ve grown, i want to keep growing with you,” he confessed, his hands which clung to yours beginning to tremble, too.

as beautiful as ni-ki’s apology was, you knew that your time with him was like spring; it bloomed enough to warm the two of you, and graciously surrounded you both with an array of such breathtaking scenery. but you realize now, that it only started so beautifully because it would eventually end. the cold and icy shift of ni-ki’s behavior created an environment that was unfit for the lovely flowers you two once nourished. his selfishness and immaturity steadily enveloped the precious flowers you shared, draining them of their colorful beauty until they wilted pathetically. the hail of ice was so damaging, that, no amount of nurturing could ever make them bloom as beautifully as they once did.

you and ni-ki were only beautiful within spring.

you didn’t fight it, knowing it would be in vain, and you allowed the tears to spill past your unconvincing cloak of composure.

“ni-ki, i know you’re sorry, and i do believe you,” you cry, and ni-ki’s eyes don’t leave you once.

“but,” your eyes leave ni-ki’s for a moment as you muster the courage to utter your next sentence. ni-ki is certain he already knows the words that will leave your mouth.

“we need to let this go,” you tell him.

ni-ki’s hands loosen brutally around yours. every movement from ni-ki causes a pang in your chest as you witness the manner in which your words hit him.

your pain was unimaginable, too.

you rush forward and hug ni-ki, feeling as his arms fervently latch onto your form, his grip pleading with you to let him stay forever.

“i love you,” he tells you. you love him too, and that’s what you tell him.

“i’ll still think about you, even tomorrow,” ni-ki continued to cry, realizing that once he let go of you, everything would become real. he needed to soak up as much of you as he could.

for you and ni-ki, love only existed temporarily.

[cissa-calls]

Rewatching Crimson Peak & Things of Focus and Notice:

As a child at her mothers funeral, Edith wears butterfly/moth earrings

Is the pen her father gifts her the one she later uses to stab Lucille? He describes the importance of having “The right tool for the job,” is that foreshadowing for gifting her the tool to begin her escape from Crimson Peak?

Is Edith wearing a butterfly hair clip when she dances the waltz with Thomas?

Lucille’s iconic crimson red gown is so detailed, so beautiful. It represents the skeletal ghosts with its spinal column along the back, crimson peak itself in color, the carapace of a bug on the sleeves and structure, and the upper bodice has trim that blooms outward (present similarly in her blue gown) but is bisected by buttons…creating a familiar shape…a moth?

The candle they hold during the waltz is held at the same level Edith holds her iconic candelabra, a subtle parallel

The trim on the collar of Lucille’s black dress references the spikes and trims of gothic architecture - which is very heavily featured in Allerdale Hall

Lucille says that: “At home we only have Black moths, formidable creatures but they lack beauty.” Knowing the parallel between her and moths, it implies that she sees herself as a survivor and powerful, but something no longer beautiful because of it

Lucille places the butterfly she holds directly into the ants, an action that’s brutal but quick. Is it foreshadowing to her execution of Edith’s death? Something quick for such a beautiful thing, done by her hand?

The LOOK Lucille gives Thomas when they realize Edith’s father knows their past. THE LOOK (JESSICA CHASTAIN YOUR ACTING)

“You seem the more collected one my dear” Lucille is called this. She always holds the mission undetered in her mind, as opposed to Thomas who seems more easily swayed by emotions

When Thomas breaks Edith’s heart by ripping apart her book. He says: “What do you dream of? A kind man? A pure soul to be redeemed? A wounded bird to be nourished?” He is telling her exactly what he is. None of those things, none of the dreams she has built of him in her mind. Not with a past and life such as his.

The significance of gramophones and wax cylinders: it is what plays when Edith’s father is murdered, it is also what saves her from meeting the same fate

I want to know more about Lucille!! Her character is so rich, so so complex, she needs more screen time!!

Need a prop replica of the ring NOW

[the house] “is a privilege we were born into, one we can never relinquish” METAPHOR ALERT METAPHOR ALERT metaphor for the cycles of abuse and trauma they could not break

HOW THE FRICK did I MISS the fact that Thomas’ workshop is in the attic when that was where him and Lucille were locked up as children. SO MANY IMPORTANT SCENES HAPPEN THERE. So many significant to their past we never see, so many ghosts not visible but are so real and present to have caused this

The trail of smoke like red essence that emanates from the ghosts as they walk, like they are still bleeding

Lucille’s hair looks black in darker lighting, but a dark brunette in others. It’s provides a black, dark shroud when she’s in America, and catches more light when she’s in Allerdale Hall

“I like to think she can see us from up there. I don’t want her to miss a single thing we do.” UM MA’AM

“…in time, everything will be right” LUCILLE QUEEN OF FINAL OMINOUS STATEMENTS IN SCENES

The amount I WISH to explore this set. To pry apart each detail and pick apart each piece, so much of it had to be handcrafted pieces for the movie or vintage pieces sourced for it. LET ME IN

THE LIGHTING MUAH

The ghost in the hallway has a rope dragging behind her…is this a gory detail, or an allusion to how she may have died (if not by poison)?

The ghost in Edith’s dream is pointing, though it is never shown to what. Is it to the exit, her warning to leave as all the other ghosts try to do?

The children’s laughter after the presumed scream of their mother’s ghost as she is stabbed, is it just for creepy effect, or did Lucille and Thomas actually laugh after they murdered her?

The scar on Lucille’s lip? Never noticed it before!

Not the first time I’ve noticed it, but the act of her clutching hot steaming food with her bare hands is chilling every single time

Were the bodies of Thomas’s wives left in the vats of clay? I don’t know HOW I didn’t make that connection before, originally i thought it was merely for creepy effect.

Many people villainize Lucille and try to make Thomas out to be solely a victim. But as stated in the wax cylinder, he was fueled by his desire to pay for and make his machine. Him and Lucille are both complacent in using their victims money for their own gain

We need to bring Chatelaine’s back into fashion. That is all.

The scrape of the spoon over the porcelain cup, it screeches and is a subtle way that shows Lucille act of caring has a harshness to it, an unpleasant sound resulting from an otherwise pleasant action: tending to Edith

Such an interesting camera choice to have the camera focus in a circular inwards and outwards

also also Lucille has a temple scar on her forehead?

The small amount of glee Lucille takes saying Edith “thought [she] was a writer” as she throws the pages to her novel in the fire.

The absolute deadpan, matter-of-fact-ness Lucille has to Edith when she signs the papers “you have nothing to live for” & “mercy killings.” This is a familiar repeated cycle

“Sign your name! Sign your bloody name!” Bloody is not just for emphasis. Edith’s name is soon to be nothing but blood

Lucille’s night gown sleeves as she flies down the stairs in pursuit - like a moths wings fluttering towards its prey

Lucille and Edith fought each other with bare feet on the stone and in the snow

Lucille is the only one of the two who knows how to start Thomas’s machine, because she was the one who witnessed it working

It is only the stab wound on Thomas’ face that bleeds and smokes when he is a ghost, perhaps because it is the wound that bears his betrayal by Lucille, reminiscent of tears of his lingering pain

Edith now has a facial scar, gifted to her by Lucille, who bore ones of her own. It is a passage, a continuing of the cycle, but it is its finale. It is Edith’s souvenir from Lucille, who took her own souvenir (her hair) from the other like a prize

[daisys-reality]

𝙿𝙰𝙲.𝟶𝟷𝟾 : 𝙱𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚊 '𝙳𝚁 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏' 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎! - 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢 𝚆𝚎𝚋𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝙿𝚃. 𝟷)

Hello my fellow shifters 🌱 This pac reading is just for entertainment purposes and for everyone who plans on shifting to a DR that is fantasy/royal/webtoon/isekai-like + for those who want to get some inspiration on how their DR self should look like. Almost all of my DR selfs look different and I thought this would be a fun idea to get some inspo for future DR plans hehe. If you like to read more pac readings from me, feel free to check out my  masterlist as well! Also, I don't own any of these beautiful pics, they're all from pinterest.

🛑 This reading works a little different, so after choosing a main picture/pile, you'll have to choose some more numbers and they will be different for each pile. Please choose a number for each category and go to your pile:

EYE COLOR: 1️⃣ 2️⃣

HAIR COLOR: 1️⃣ 2️⃣

------

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴

Eye color: 1️⃣ strong pink / purple 2️⃣ yellow/orange (tiger eye)

Hair color: 1️⃣ dark blue / purple  2️⃣ dark blonde

Overall vibe: Skin complexion on the paler side (regardless of skin color), creamy skin, round face, strong jawline, round/soft body type with good amount of muscles, short to medium height, darker hair (so here: dark blonde or dark purple/blue hair), emotional/moody, dreamy, affectionate, passionate, dramatic, attractive, psychic, serious, melancholic, burdened/exhausted by life in general or by responsibilities and contracts?, dark colored and black clothes, long dresses, pearl jewelry, big jewels, piercing eyes, strong intuition, powerful presence, being restricted by something or holding yourself back, composed anger, embodiment of karma, fearless gaze, sensual, devoted and eager for power.  

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾

Eye color: 1️⃣ light green  2️⃣  black

Hair color: 1️⃣ light pink 2️⃣ icy blue

Overall vibe: Graceful, tall and slender, long legs, medium skin complexion (regardless of skin color), light colored hair, can’t stand still, arrogant/conceited, condescending, flat chested, cold, emotionless, hidden control freak, easily misunderstood, wise, tragedy as blessing in disguise, intriguing, willing to do the dirty work, you're someone who stands up for themselves, your words might sting, lowkey intimidating/scary to men, doll-like beauty, ribbons and frills, light-colored clothes, poisonous beauty, you’re like the poison that is being used as remedy to another poison, you bring balance and transformation into that world even if people can’t see it.

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

Eye color: 1️⃣ red 2️⃣  orange/hazel

Hair color: 1️⃣ blonde 2️⃣ brown

Overall vibe: Warm colored hair, dark colored eyes, tending more to be muscular built, good posture, strong/heavy jaw, positive and warm energy, Lion-like, majestic, medium height, strong body and mind, spiritual, cultivated, mesmerizing, capable, responsible, peace-maker & peace upholder, humble, nourishing, caretaker, hardworking, abundant, generous and supportive, at times resentful or feeling trapped, you're someone who works a lot behind the scenes and who likes managing, someone with a helper syndrome but at the same time suspicious of others, resistant to change, keen-eyed, all-seeing, full and healthy hair, wearing clothes that enhance your body shape and curves.

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁

Eye color: 1️⃣ light pink 2️⃣  light purple/blue

Hair color: 1️⃣ red 2️⃣ white

Overall vibe: Curvy body shape but overall more lean, pretty waist-hip ratio, cute cheeks, a teasing beauty, perhaps a little fidgety or just nervous energy (?), a hard working person, robust or rough but more so in personality than in appearance, foreign or exotic looking, well traveled, a bit tired looking - perhaps your gaze/eyes but you have a youthful glow, you look like you went through a lot, perhaps that's also why you sometimes give off this ‘rough around the edges’ vibe, detail oriented, a little nit-picky, tendency to be a bit extreme sometimes, fearful vision of life, controlling, looking like someone who needs some time off because you're always overdoing it, organized and resourceful, very busy, someone who carries higher wisdom, perhaps religious or someone who deals with divine energy, someone who people wonder about who they really are or what they have in mind, you are someone who questions things a lot and you don't trust (opinions, informations) easily, there is also something innocent or pure about you, innocent arousal and naive sensuality, compelling and almost addictive to men and with other women there is always this unresolved tension, I see you long dresses with pretty low cut cleavage or turtle neck dresses with see through parts, very teasing dressing style, you might play around with different or even exotic styles, dresses with a tight waist cut or wearing corsets, and also something about cords, fans and scarfs (worn like a vest).

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴

Eye color: 1️⃣ grey 2️⃣ dark grape purple almost black

Hair color: 1️⃣ dark brown 2️⃣ blue

Overall vibe: Piercing eyes, petite and dainty looking, short, baby face, innocent look, very feminine, childlike-charm, adorable, dreamy looking or the vibe of a daydreamer, naive, hidden depth, light hearted, soft beauty, does not fear darkness, patient, prudent, seeking growth, visionary, beaming smile, mystical, easy-going, clever, soft and frilly clothes, light or pastel colored clothes, many layers on the dress (=volumios dresses), hard to grasp, very perceptive, clothes and accessories with ribbons, dots, frills and lace, cute hair accessory, perhaps flower themed dresses, delicate jewelry, adventurous spirit, intriguing, someone who is able to deal with tragedies in a light hearted way, clean beauty, someone very tidy, fresh and eager energy, perhaps sometimes lacking a sense of self, very moldable identity, loves learning and very open-minded persona.

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝚇

Eye color: 1️⃣ red 2️⃣ (apple) green

Hair color: 1️⃣ white 2️⃣ purple

Overall vibe: Round/soft body type, bold appearance, voluminous hair, intense eyes, attractive/alluring eyes, perhaps freckles, optimistic but also kinda nonchalant attitude, inspiring, shining beauty, tall, slightly arrogant looking, emotionless face/poker face, very good-looking, lush hair, no problem standing up for themselves, often clashing with other women and appearing bitchy to them, other women are often competitive around you, one of a kind type of beauty, dangerous like a panther, exotic jewelry, feathers, gold jewelry, there's something dark about you, some people could claim you’re secretly a witch, you seem powerful to others, a little rebellious as well, someone who causes chaos wherever they go, very brave, regal energy, god/goddess like or god-complex? lol, hard to get, naturally seductive, wide flowy clothes, showing skin, very luxurious clothing, intimidating, keen eye, a bit stealthy, someone who hates wasting time and energy (on useless stuff/people), easily bored, expansive presence, and wild passionate person, your the center of your own world, dangerous like still deep waters - which you shouldn’t underestimate...

Eye/hair color combinations: 1️⃣1️⃣, 1️⃣2️⃣, 2️⃣1️⃣, 2️⃣2️⃣

[cowgurrrl]

Omgggg Charlie. I love her. Could I please get a fluff piece of Joel having a cute little night in with her when she is tiny - mom is on patrol shift. It’s just him and nugget Charlie at home, him cooking, doing bathtime and doing HER LITTLE CURLY HAIR and just reminiscing about being a girl dad again

Charlotte Sometimes

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: “Maybe our world will grow kinder eventually. Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside each of us.” — Mary Oliver, from “Frank Marc’s Blue Horses” aka this ask [1.4k]

Warnings: talks of Tess and Sarah, Joel being the softest girl dad in the world, chronic pain, marital bliss

Joel never took care of his hair. Before the Outbreak, all his knowledge about hair was learned to protect Sarah's hair. Thanks to a lovely woman he met at Sarah's daycare, he learned about bonnets, leave-in conditioners, braids, and so much more. Joel would often come home from work with cracked and exhausted hands, but that all got washed away when Sarah sat in front of him with combs, sweet-smelling products, and hair ties. They'd listen to music together, talk about their days, and laugh as Joel worked his Dad Magic. Spending time caring for his daughter's hair was his form of meditation. 

After the Outbreak, he couldn't even look in the direction of the shitty FEDRA shampoo and conditioner without feeling pieces of him crumble and splinter like the face of his watch. He was always a rinse-and-go kind of guy, but especially so once he settled in Boston. There was always somewhere to go, something to do. He didn't have time to be alone with his thoughts, and he didn't want to. Tess washed his hair for him when he broke his arm during a shake-down. "You're killing me, Texas," she said when she brushed his hair back. She was the first person who ever cared for him the way he cared for Sarah. And it scared the shit out of him. Still, even after all those years, he remembers how she called him Texas and gave his malnourished strands attention. He remembers how she reminded him of that soft, vulnerable part of himself, and he buried it as deep as he could until he met you.

Joel never cared about his hair until Charlie was born with identical ringlets and wave patterns. The Miller Curls is the affectionate name for it. Everyone in the Miller family has had some version of The Miller Curls. Joel and Tommy's mom passed it down to the boys, and then the boys passed it down to their kids. Sarah and Camille have a scarily similar curl pattern, and Joel has given Tommy all the help to nourish her hair. So when you first noticed the tight curls forming on Charlie's head, you let Joel take the reins. 

By the time she's three, they have their own routine. Once a week, you work a night patrol shift with Maria or Ellie, sometimes Tommy, and he makes dinner. He usually makes more than is necessary for just three people, so you can take leftovers to Ellie or whoever you're working with that night, and you leave home with a full belly, Tupperware, and kisses from your favorite people. The second you're out the door, it's over. 

They chase each other around the house, color on the floor, sing loudly to whatever's spinning on the record player, and play guitar together. Well, Joel plays guitar, and Charlie just kinda makes up songs and dances. He strums to keep time with her, but she interrupts him with laughter and requests for new songs. Tonight, it's "Mommy's Song," which is what she calls your favorite Beatles song. When the sun gets low, they pick up the living room together, and Joel carries Charlie upstairs to take a bath.

He takes his time washing the marker off her hands, brushing the tangles out, and shampooing and conditioning her hair. Once she's out and in her pajamas, she sits in front of Joel and hands him the products he asks for: leave-in conditioner, spray, and cream to hold her curls. Maria and a few other parents in Jackson made their own stuff and taught Joel how to mix different oils and herbs to strengthen and condition her hair. It gives him a sense of pride, knowing he can take that extra step to show how much he cares for her. When he's done with the products, he lightly scrunches and wraps stray pieces around his finger to encourage the curl formation. 

By the end of their routine, Charlie is nodding off, her cheek smushing against Joel's knee. "Let's get you to bed, baby girl." He murmurs as he kisses the top of her head and carefully picks her up. She buries her face in his neck and wraps her arms around his shoulders, feeling nothing but safety and love as she falls asleep on him. 

When he lays her down in her bed, she doesn't immediately let go of him. She groggily blinks her eyes open to look at Joel in the moonlight shining through her window and smiles. "I love you, Daddy," she yawns and kisses his cheek. "I love when you do my hair, too." It's the last thing she gets out before rolling over in bed and closing her eyes. Joel sits there, as starstruck as the day she was born, and has to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying. 

"I love you, too, Charlotte." He says, but she can't hear him. He tucks her in a little tighter and kisses her temple again before leaving her room. 

When you get home from patrol, he's asleep on the couch, snoring with his arms crossed over his chest. You've told him repeatedly that he doesn't have to wait up for you, that you'll see him in the morning or when you crawl into bed. Nearly four years of marriage, and he still doesn't listen to you. You walk over to the back of the couch and push his hair out of his face to kiss his forehead, rousing him awake. He hums and lifts his arm to hold your hip. "If you keep falling asleep here, you're gonna fuck up your back." You whisper as he leans his head back to get a kiss.

"M'back's already fucked up." He says, his voice gravelly and deep from fatigue, and you laugh. 

"You guys have a good night?"

"The best," he says. "She told me she loves when I do her hair." 

"She did?" You gush, and he smiles softly. "I'm telling you, you've got a talent for that kinda thing." Joel Miller, hardened survivor and killer, has spent the last three years becoming a pro at handling his toddler's hair. There's a joke in there somewhere, but you're too tired to try and find it. 

"How was patrol?" He asks, and you reach for your shoulder. 

"All clear. I think I've gotta switch back to my handgun 'cause the shotgun is hurting my shoulder."

"Could be the cold, too."

"Could be how many times I've dislocated it." 

"And that one time you caught a bullet right," he trails his hand up until his thumb can press into the thick scar tissue near your collarbone. "There." He says, and you hum. You sigh and pat Joel's chest before walking over to the coat rack and shrugging your jacket off, wincing as you do. 

"Why don't you go to bed, and I'll join you after I take a shower?" You suggest, and an idea lights up his brain.

"Your shoulder gonna be alright?"

"I'll manage." 

"Y'know..." he starts, standing from the couch and waltzing over to you. His hands snake around your waist, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "A very smart lady once told me I've got a talent for doin' hair."

"I think I remember hearing that." You tease. 

"You gonna let me wash your hair for you, darlin'?" He asks, that stupid, sleepy southern drawl doing it for you every time, and you fight a smile. "To rest your shoulder, of course."

"Of course," you echo, squinting at him. You try to wrap your arms around his neck, but shooting pain stops you from getting very far. As much as you want to fight him and make him go to bed, you could also probably use the help. "You can wash my hair only if you promise to stop falling asleep on the couch when I'm on nights." 

"You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Miller." 

"Mm." You hum. He pretends to think as his thumbs make soothing circles into your shirt. 

"I promise to try and stop fallin' asleep on the couch." 

"I'll take it." 

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod. He kisses you and your injured shoulder, a gentle, sleepy smile on his face the whole time before he leads you upstairs and to the bathroom that still smells of his homemade products and Jane's lotion. 

Joel Miller never took care of his hair. At least, not until he had someone like you running your hands through it or daughters who needed him to care. Who would've thought that big, broody, dangerous man with the scar across his nose would be the same man to color on the floor with your baby or brush her curly hair or fall asleep on an uncomfortable couch just to make sure you got home safe? 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @moonandseatgr-yngf @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @korynnekorynne

[gaiaseyes451]

7 Days, 700 Words - Storm Break - 7/7 - Complete!

Storm Break (new part in blue)

The patter of rain on the clay shingled roof interrupts our peace. Soft and languid a moment ago, your breath quickens; the crackle of the fire in the hearth a foreshock of the quake amassing in the slate gray clouds. Yet it is I who flinches when lightning flashes, casting the cottage sitting room into sharp relief. Too bright, too cold, too familiar.

Our fingers intertwine and reflexively I curl beside you. Whether it is to soothe my own anxiety or bolster your resolve matters not; you pressed against me, cheek resting in my curls, is a balm all the same.

I count silently, one…two…three… anticipating the sound that follows the fury. Thunder cracks, rattling the glass so droplets spill like tears down window pane cheeks. Through the tempest the unseen sun sets in the churning sky, violet and gold and vermilion glowing on the horizon. There is so much beauty in this world—once our ward, now made home—even in the storms.

But your vision is shuttered, goldenrod irises barricaded against the aftershock of memories of more insidious foes. I run my fingers through your hair and conjure the first storm we weathered, sheltered together as the rain fell over Eden. 

Poor protection though they were, we huddled together as the cold drops beaded on  my wings and ran off in steady rivulets, watching the world change around us. I remember the heat of the sun warmed stones beneath our feet, the whip of the wind against my robes and through your hair. 

But most of all, I remember the colors. In the rain soaked light greens were more verdant, reds richer, blues shades of indigo in their saturation. 

Your eyes, a soul suspended in amber, beside me.

“Do you remember Eden,” I murmur against your temple, “after the first rain?”

You look at me, the same golden soul, no less cherished for finally being mine, and smile. “I do.” 

I stand, our fingers still interlaced, and together we journey toward the garden and into the storm. I leave you on the patio, behind the curtain falling from the eaves, and step into the rain soaked grass to spread my wings. 

Before I can call you are beside me, glistening ebony wings perched carefully overhead 

“The scent of it,” you sigh, darker thoughts replaced by the breath of this moment. “Of dirt and petrichor, flowers and fruit. Life and Earth. You.”

We stand here, vulnerable and exposed, clothes dripping, sodden ground cold beneath our feet. We could turn, return inside, the breeze having whisked away the last remnants of our unease. 

Instead, we stay. 

This is precisely where we belong. We dwell in the cottage, but it is not our shelter. Its walls offer protection, but it is not our refuge.

The rain replenishes the silver necklace streams that adorn the land. The storm breaks the heat of long summer days and nourishes the jasmine that perfumes humid nights. It cleanses souls and slakes thirsts.

We need not fear the rain.

We did not seek refuge on wooden boats as the seas rose and the sky fell. Our safety was not heralded by a dove and olive branch. The ribbon of color bursting across a brilliant blue sky proclaims the magnificence of physics, not a miracle of faith. 

Troubles will always follow and we will surely fret and worry. Until the time the rain comes—as gale or shower, storm or drizzle—and washes our troubles away. The rain falls over everything. Even us. We shall always emerge from it, renewed and reborn, on our side.

We have learned to welcome the storm.

With unspoken agreement, we lower our wings, letting the rain wash over us. The storm is an old friend, the oldest we have. With each deep rumble and brilliant flash it greets us, in every heavy drop it bids us farewell.

Safety is the squeeze of your arm around my waist. Peace is seeing your shining eyes, day in and day out. Home is at your side; just as it has always been. 

You dip down as I reach up to capture your lips in a smiling kiss. This, too, we know well. After all, we were the first to fall in love in the rain.

****

The prompt was provided by @crowleysgirl56 and comes from the poem Troubles Follow by @lickthecowhappy . The stanza used as the prompt:

but a cottage near the / sea cannot shelter / from every storm / as rain falls / over all

It's done! I will be doing this again, I'll start the next one in a couple of days. :)

Got a prompt you want me to use next time? Add a comment below! Want to be on a tag list? Follow #Storm Break or comment below. Feel free to adopt this idea yourself! If you do, tag me and I will give you a prompt!

[jester-lover]

Hobie with a Desi! S/O

cw/ fem! Reader, horrible attempt at writing British people, including multiple desi cultures bc my girlies need all the representation we can get (it’s slim pickings out here) all fluff, some cultural struggles, but everything is resolved, mentions of insecurities

(LONG POST- headcanons and a drabble)

I'm goth and I had a literary awakening when Hobie showed up

There are literally only two ways I see the two of you meeting

The first involves you being a friend/relative of Pavitir’s, who is exceptionally happy his two homies are getting along

In this situation, Hobie would know a little more about you from the get go, and you most likely would know about him (Pav thinks he’s so cool, he’ll talk about his friends to anyone who’ll listen)

Another; in my opinion, funnier, way for the two of you to meet is him accidentally crashing a desi wedding when he’s on Spidey business

You would be mildly peeved with him for disturbing the wedding, but his spunk and generally opinionated personality make you fall for him

Either way, congratulations! You have the world’s loveliest punk boyfriend

As a boyfriend, Hobie loves helping out in any activity you need help with

He’s the type of boy who tries his absolute hardest to be there for any event that is important to you

No matter if its a massive grad party or a late night pizza run, Hobie is there and having the time of his life

Now, moving onto the cultural aspect, Hobie adores learning about other cultures

Your family is weary of him at first, because of the way he dresses primarily

He manages to find a place in their hearts after they see the way he treats you (with respect and dignity!!!!)

Also the fact that he eats whatever your mom makes, entire plate, man will lick it clean

(I mean, have you seen how much British people love takeaway?)

“Is your mum home yet?” “She’s making something good I bet, she always is.”

He can HANDLE spice, and he’s good with kids (his interaction with Mayday proved that to me)

Your parents may end up, in a shocking event, liking him!

Hobie is your biggest hype man whenever you wear cultural clothes, especially if they’re a little on the edgy side, dark colors and all that

Lehengas, shalwar kameez, sarees, etc, he loves them all

“You're dressed up, aren’t you?”

He’ll explain it to you in this mysticised ‘stepping on eurocentric beauty standards’ type of way, but you know deep down he just thinks you're super pretty

He’s obsessed with your features, no matter what you look like, he thinks you have the most perfect face in the world

If you ever make Hobie Desi food, he’ll be in love with you forever

He loves pani puri, especially if the pani is a lil spicier

His love language is acts of service, and you making him something to eat is like, you are nourishing him?? With bomb Desi food?? he’s is seeing heaven rn

He most DEF asks Pav (who then asks Gayatri) for advice on how to impress you

This leads to him, hanging onto your windowsill, with a Mendhi tube in his hand, and a calm smile on his face

As Hobie slid off his mask, his gorgeous hair fell to the sides of his sharp face. Placing the spiky mask on your side table, he sauntered towards your bed, abruptly sitting down and motioning for you to follow him. 

You sighed, and smiled as you took your spot in front of him. He was alway so considerate, taking your interests into mind whenever he swung by.

“You know, I’m not a pro at this or anything.”

He grinned, almost wolfishly, and placed the small sharp tipped tube into your lap.

“I could care less, do anything on my hands.”

You gently took one of his hands into both of yours, spreading it out to see the flesh of his palm, his nails were painted red this week, courtesy of you, of course.

His long bony hand flexed as you gently took off each of his silverish rings, one by one. 

You were completely focused on this simple act, treating him with a gentleness only you could offer him, a complete contrast from his usual existence. 

“I don’t have a lot of time today, my cousin’s getting married, we have to go to some pre wedding events.”

Hobie perked up in interest, sliding his free hand to smooth out your gingham sheets.

“And what do you plan to wear?”

His mind flashed through all the traditional clothes he’s seen you in, each more ornate and beautiful than the last.

“The lehenga most likely, the peach-ish one, with the sparkles.”

You undid the little plastic pin at the top of the Mehendi tube, applying a slight pressure and making a small line on his palm to start out with.

Hobie looked at you closely, remembering the last time he saw that specific lehenga.

“That one’s cute.”

You laughed a little, looking down at your messy drawing.

“I was going for a flower but it sorta looks like a palm tree.”

He looked down at his hand, a messy smudgy, and less than finished flower was on his palm.

“Maybe, a couple more petals on the top, yeah?”

You squeezed the Mendhi tube again, carefully drawing three extra petals on the top.

“There! I think that's good.”

Hobie looked down at his palm and kept a laugh back, poorly albeit.

The flower wasn’t necessarily bad, just a little wonky.

“It's absolutely beautiful.”

You smiled.

“Hold your hand still until it dries, then peel off the crumbly bits, okay?”

Hobie mockingly saluted with his other hand, matching your smile.

“Anything you say.”

You giggled, taking his face in your hands gently, careful to avoid snagging one of his piercings.

“What am I ever gonna do without you?”

His expression turned a little soft, keeping his smile steady.

“Let's hope it never has to come to that.”

[talonabraxas]

Surya Talon Abraxas ‘Om Suryaye Namaha‘ – is the mantra dedicated to the Sun God – Surya. Also known as Suryadev, also known as Suryaya, is the major solar deity in the Hindu Dharma. He is also universally referred to as the Sun. According to the Vedas, he is one of 33 sons of Goddess Aditi; he is also known as Aditya.

Surya, the Sun, is the symbol of immense light and wisdom. Hence, he is one of the most revered Gods for Hindus. Also, Ravi and Bhanu are two commonly uttered names in Sanskrit for the Sun. However, Surya also has other different names in Sanskrit.

Suryadev - Lord Surya - Sun God

12 Popular Names of Suryadev in Hindu texts

According to Hindu texts, Lord Surya has 12 different names, which are as follow:

Mitraya – The friend of all Ravaya – Praised by All Suryaya – The Guide of all Bhanave – The Bestower of Beauty Khagaya – Simulator of Senses Pushne – The Nourisher of All Hiranyagarbhaya – The Creator Marichaya – The destroyer of diseases Adityaya – The Inspirer Savitre – The purifier Arkaya – The Radiant Bhaskaraya – The Illuminator

According to Vedic astrology, Surya is the prime member of the Navagraha (nine planets). It is the major source of life for all creatures. According to science, the whole bio-diversity is based on photosynthesis, which is only possible due to the existence of Surya (The Sun). Lord Surya is considered as the evident God as it could be seen every day with bare eyes. Although Suryadev rarely has a distinct temple of himself, small images and statues of the Sun God can be seen in many temples and other Gods.

Interestingly, Suryadev is worshipped as Lord Brahma during the day, Lord Shiva at noon, and Lord Vishnu in the evening. The Sun God is regarded as an aspect of Vishnu and Shiva by Vaishnavas and Shaivites. Thus, Lord Surya is known as Surya Narayana, and is also recognized as one of the eight types of Lord Mahadeva, named the Astamurti. He is believed to be the God of wisdom and the supreme Devata (God).

Furthermore, Lord Surya is the chief of solar Gods. He is believed to have arms and hairs of gold. Also, he is portrayed as a red man with 3 eyes and 4 arms, who is riding into a one-wheeled chariot pulled by 7 horses. It is very similar to the scientific representation of colors, also found in a rainbow or the ‘VIBGYOR’ spectrum. Plus, the most common symbolization of Surya is the Swastika.

In Jyotish Shastra or horoscope, Surya is the Lord of Leo Rashi (Zodiac). Also, in the zodiac, Sun holds the most famous place in the middle. Thus, Lord Surya stays one month in each Rashi and takes twelve months to complete a circle of twelve Rashis. He is the guardian of the east and blesses his followers with affluence, fame, and good health. Sunday is regarded as the ruling day of Lord Surya. On this day, people keep fasting and worship God Surya to attain longevity, prosperity, and well-being. It is believed that stones like red ruby, gold, and metal are the ones to please Lord Surya.

Festivals of Lord Surya

Various festivals are dedicated to Lord Surya. Below are some of the most celebrated festivals mentioned that are in the name of the Sun God.

Makar Sankranti, also known as Maghe Sanktanki, Maghi, is celebrated on the first day of Magh. It is one of the most popular and most widely celebrated festivals dedicated to Suryadev. It is believed that celebrating Maghe Sanktanki brings an end to the chilled winter weather, starting with better days with warm weather.

Chhath is yet another Hindu festival celebrated in Lord Surya’s name. It is celebrated on the sixth day after Deepawali. Chhath is an ancient festival dedicated to the Sun God for four days. It is said to have been started by Karna, the son of Surya. However, Chhath is also considered one of the most difficult festivals to carry on. Those doing the puja, mostly women, have to fast and go without food and water for long durations over these four days.

The significance of God Surya

Suryadev is one of the most popular deities in Hindu communities. Therefore, along with the famous Gayatri Mantra, Hindus chanted various other Surya mantras every day, offering water early morning in the east direction to the Sun, when it rises.

The Sun creates day and night, which is a vital source of energy to all living beings. Thus, Surya is considered the greatest of all the Gods by agricultural communities. Also, being the source of light and warmth, Lord Surya can control all seasons and the power to ripen the crops.

In conclusion, the symbol of Surya is considered as one of the positive signs. The Sun God has also played an imperative role as the Master Guru for many Gods and the number of devotees. As a result, Suryadev or the Sun is one of the most powerful and majestic gods of Hindu Dharma.

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, "𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞"⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝕯𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞'𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝕾𝖚𝖓 𝖉𝖎𝖌𝖘 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘, 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊, 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 -Rises the Moon, Liana Flores

Isaac had been working tirelessly for days, his office a refuge of relentless dedication. His ebony hair was disheveled, and the dark circles under his deep brown eyes were a stark testament to his exhaustion. His normally sharp features looked gaunt and pale, with worry lines etched deeply into his forehead. Today, his body had finally given in to exhaustion and illness. You noticed the change immediately as you entered the room, your heart aching to see him in such a state.

"Isaac, you need to rest," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The warmth of your touch was a stark contrast to the cold rigidity of his posture.

He shook his head, barely glancing up from his work. "I can't, Pickle. There's too much to do," he murmured, his voice strained.

Your concern deepened. You carefully pulled the papers from his hands, feeling the tension in his muscles as he reluctantly let go. "You won't be able to do anything if you don't take care of yourself," you chided gently, but with a firmness that left no room for argument.

Isaac, too weak to resist, allowed you to lead him. Each step felt like a monumental effort, his legs heavy and unsteady. You guided him to his bedroom of dark wood and soft, warm colors, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. You tucked him into his bed, pulling the thick, quilted covers up to his chin. The warmth of the blankets enveloped him, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled into his bones. He closed his eyes, already feeling a bit better under your care.

You hurried to the kitchen, determined to make him something nourishing. The kitchen was cozy and quiet, filled with the soft morning light filtering through the windows. You prepared his favorite gyoza, your hands deftly folding the dumplings with care. The soup simmered on the stove, a fragrant blend of chicken broth, ginger, scallions, garlic, and soy sauce filled the house, bringing a small smile to Isaac's lips even from the bedroom. You poured the steaming miso soup into a bowl, adding a dose of medicine to help with his fever.

Returning to his side with a tray, you sat on the edge of the bed. "Here, Isaac. You need to eat something," you said softly, offering him a piece of gyoza.

Isaac tried to protest, feeling too weak and embarrassed to be taken care of like this. "P-Pickle, you don't have to do all this," he murmured, his voice hoarse and his brown eyes glazed with fever.

But your gentle persistence won out. You fed him by hand, your touch tender and loving. "One more bite? For me?" you coaxed with a smile, your eyes full of concern and affection.

Reluctantly, Isaac opened his mouth for another bite, the warmth of the food bringing some color back to his cheeks. Despite his initial embarrassment, he found comfort in your presence, in the way you cared for him so devotedly. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection for you.

After finishing the meal, you set the tray aside and sat beside him, stroking his hair with a soothing rhythm. Your touch was gentle, fingers threading through his ebony locks. "Just rest now," you whispered, your voice a balm to his weary soul. You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, your lips cool yet soft against his fevered skin.

Isaac's eyes grew heavy, lulled by your tender care and the warmth of your touch. "You're too good to me," he mumbled, a faint smile on his lips as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.

You smiled back, your fingers continuing their soothing motion through his hair. "You deserve it, Isaac. Now sleep," you said softly, your voice filled with love and reassurance.

As he drifted off to sleep, Isaac felt a profound sense of peace and contentment. In your care, he felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. He realized how much he depended on you, not just for moments like these, but for the happiness and light you brought into his life. As he slipped into slumber, he knew he would do anything to keep you by his side. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

[lostinwildflowers]

Romantic Flight

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki is the Chieftain's son, and a lot of pressure is on his shoulders to be the best. He finds comfort in you; as you do in him. He can't bring himself to tell you his feelings until a threat imposes itself on your friendship.

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Swearing(it's Bakugou), mutual pining, harsh language, best friends to lovers, also kind of idiots to lovers, angst to fluff, also slightly hurt/comfort, happy ending!!!

A/N: HI GUYS!!! I'm so excited to share this fic with y'all! This is the first of 5 HTTYD x MHA fics that I'll be writing over the next while! Please let me know how you liked it! I don't really write for Bakugou that much, so any feedback is appreciated. Much love! -Birch<3

Useful Info:

Naugost - pronounced Nuh-gaw-st (not like August)

Tyr - Named after the Norse God of War

Romantic Flight - by John Powell - The inspiration for this piece!

Part ii. Dragon Island- Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Part iii. To Befriend a Dragon - Shoto Todoroki x Reader

This is Naugost. Most of the year, it’s warmer than the fire from an angry Nadder, with winds that will knock most people off of their feet, minus Mrs. Hoster, she’s sturdier than a Gronkle.

This island is so far off the maps that not even migrating dragons could find us. That’s how our village likes it, secluded and safe up in the mountains of Naugost, where we thrive off of the deep valley set in the middle of our island.

At the edge of the valley, set next to the waterfall that nourishes our farmland, is the house of the Chieftain, and his son, Katsuki. The chief is hardly ever around, always leading patrols to protect the edges of our territory, and making sure there is no contact with the outside world.

And his son? Well, Katsuki doesn’t always agree with him. He wants to expand our tribe, so he often sneaks out to explore. His desire to leave and escape made him competitive, and that’s where our story begins.

“Tyr, what the hell are you doing?!” the shout comes, the blonde-haired man’s voice deep and angry. The Monstrous Nightmare he was sitting upon, Tyr, was glaring up at him, smoke drifting from his nostrils in anger with his rider.

“Y/n’s getting away, she’s gonna beat us in this damn race if you don’t get your ass in gear!” Katsuki yells at the dragon, pointing to your disappearing figure over the small hill. The deep ruby-colored dragon growled at Katsuki, but lunged after your Deadly Nadder regardless, rushing forward so fast Katsuki yelped as he flew backward.

He managed to stay on, though, and clung to Tyr’s horns as he glared down at his dragon. Katsuki could hear your whoop and holler as your dragon threw the last sheep into your net, securing your win. Bakugou groans as he flies over the finish line, where you had landed your dragon, Gretta, and was smiling mischievously up at him.

“Shut your damn mouth,” Katsuki grumbles as he lands next to you, “This damn dragon won’t listen to me one damn bit.” A laugh falls from your lips as you pet Gretta on the neck, and you take in the appearance of your someday chieftain-to-be.

His golden locks were long and shaggy, with just a few braids at the base of his neck, one with a charm you had gifted him last year. He wore his flight suit, the deep red tones of his armor and padding matching the deep red set to his eyes, and the under colors of Tyr’s wings.

You blink once to stop your ogling, but a smile regains your lips as you snap back, “Maybe you should actually train your dragon instead of just ordering him around.” There was no malice behind your words, just a twinkle in your eye that you knew would just push Katsuki over the edge.

“You want to fight me?! I’ll whoop your ass right now,” he yelled as he slid down Tyr’s wing and to the ground, but as he marched up to Gretta, Tyr knocked him to the side with his head, the dragon heading straight for your outreached hand.

A soft chuff falls from the dragon’s mouth, and Katsuki frowns at the sight of his dragon being so affectionate toward you. You slide onto the ground as well, petting Tyr on the nose before glancing over at your best friend, who was picking himself up off the ground.

“Doesn’t look like I need to, Katsuki,” you giggle as you offer him your hand, which he rolls his eyes at, but begrudgingly takes your hand, knowing the crowd was watching you two.

You two were the perfect pair- the chieftain’s son and a council woman’s daughter. It was almost like the two of you were made to lead your island, but you both were set on being friends.

Katsuki grunts as you haul him to his feet, giving him a firm clap on the back as you smile and wave at the crowd, who was cheering for the both of you. The blonde was quiet next to you, and at first, you think he was sulking, but when you turn to look at him, he was already looking at you.

He’s looking at the way your (colored) eyes take in the members of your tribe. He’s noticing the way your hair is windswept from the intensity of the race. He sees the kindness in your body language as you wave to your family and friends in the crowd. He sees how beautiful you look.

He knew you were an amazing person, he wouldn’t be friends with anyone less than extraordinary. But he liked the fire to your soul, the sparks that seemed to fly when he was around you. In every way you were electricity and fire, everything he could ever dream of in a woman.

And that’s why he couldn’t tell you his feelings. You were too perfect for him, and he was already lucky enough to have you as a best friend.

“Kats? You okay?” you ask gently as you wave your hand in front of him, his frame freezing when he realized he was caught. He shakes his head back and forth to clear his mind before he nods at you with a frown.

“I can’t believe you beat me. Again,” is all he says as he stalks off, and you roll your eyes at him but follow his figure as he walks off. You give two short whistles over your shoulder, and the two dragons fly off, released from the pressures of the race.

“You’ll get me next time,” you say softer, a gentle smile resting on your lips as you playfully bump your hip into his own, his body not even flinching at your assault.

Then, fast as lightning, he moves.

His right hand comes up to pin both of your wrists above your head, trapping your body flat against a beacon tower. Katsuki’s knee lands between your thighs, parting them open as he leans in close to you.

Your heart slams against the walls of your ribcage, suddenly silent at the close proximity. You can feel heat rushing over your face, and you knew it wasn’t because of the Naugost winds.

“Gotcha,” is all he whispers, his voice deepening a few tones as his eyes drop to your lips and then back. Your mouth is parted open, your (colored) orbs dancing back and forth with his own red ones, panic and nerves running through you.

“Ehm, excuse me?” a soft voice cuts in, and Katsuki releases you slowly, holding your gaze as he takes a step back and spins around.

“What do you want?” his voice is harsh, not soft like how it was with you a few moments ago. You see red hair over Katsuki’s shoulder, and recognition runs through you.

“Kirishima!” you yelp as you slide around Katsuki, lunging toward the tall redhead in a makeshift hug. Kirishima laughs as you jump into his arms, swinging you around once before setting you on the ground.

“Great job out there, Racing Queen,” Kirishima jokes, and Katsuki frowns at the simple nickname. When did you start talking to Kirishima? Katsuki thinks, taking a step back and watching the two of you chat for a moment.

The blonde sees the way your eyes light up when you talk to the burly blacksmith, how excitedly you talk with your hands as you explain how you won. It pissed him off. He hated how at ease you seemed with this other guy, this guy that he didn’t know that well, but knew couldn’t treat you as well as he could.

“Oi, Y/n, I’m leaving,” is all he says, turning on foot before walking away from you. You can see the dejected slope to his shoulders, and you assume he’s upset from his second loss to you at the sheep contest.

Kirishima also watches him go and mumbles, “Kinda feel bad for him, you know? You’ve been him twice in a row now, that’s hard on the chief’s son.” You sigh and shrug, “Yeah, but he’s my best friend, he’ll pout for a bit and then get over it.”

But would he? What was that moment against the beacon tower? He was… different. 

You can’t stop the swirl of thoughts in your head, but you are interrupted when Kirishima rubs at the back of his neck and bashfully starts, “So, I was thinking, we’ve been hanging out for a while now, and I think you’re pretty cool. Would you maybe want to go on a date with me?”

Your body stills at the question. A date? With Kirishima? You blink up at the burly man. Once. Twice, and then it clicks in your head that you need to answer him.

“Sorry!” you blurt out, rubbing at your eyes before glancing in the direction Katsuki left. You put on a bit of a fake smile but reply, “Sorry, I’m a bit tired from my race. I’d say that sounds nice, but I really need to go check on Katsuki right now. I’ll chat with you later? At the Great Hall?”

You don’t miss the way Kirishima’s face drops, and you feel your chest tighten at the crestfallen look on his handsome features. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him- there wasn’t anything you disliked about Kirishima.

He was tall, handsome, and had a great job. He worked hard to provide for himself and his mother and even helped out the other farmers when he had time. Kirishima had one of the best personalities in your tribe, and there were plenty of women lined up to talk to him.

He was sweet, kind, and overall a gentleman. But there was something missing, and you didn’t quite know what it was.

Kirishima wasn’t anything like Katsuki, you reasoned. Katsuki was your best friend, and strong in so many other aspects. He was an incredible fighter, he was very strong, and always protective over the weak. He had empathy but only showed it to those who deserved to see it.

As the chieftain’s son, you knew he bore a pressure on his shoulders, but he did it so well you hardly could notice. Katsuki would make an excellent leader and father someday.

Father? Where’d that come from? You wonder, a soft warmth rushing over your cheeks and a wave of butterflies flooding your belly. You’re brought back to Kirishima in front of you when he shuffles on his feet and nods, “Sounds good, Y/n, I’ll catch up with you later. Great job on your race today!”

You thank him as he turns away, his shoulders also slumping down in defeat. You watch him walk away but glance back to where Katsuki disappeared too.

Little did you know, Katsuki had stopped around the corner, listening to Kirishima ask you out. After the word “date” came out of the redhead’s mouth, Katsuki left. He didn’t want to hear you accept another man’s courtship with him present.

You were his best friend. You were the one he had axe-throwing competitions with. You were the one he raced against to catch the most sheep. Hell, you were even the one to challenge him to see who could catch the biggest fish bare-handed.

You did everything together, so why did you want to choose Kirishima? Katsuki couldn’t help the thoughts from flooding his brain, so he set out to where he knew no one would find him.

—

Three long whistles fell from his lips as he settled into his saddle on Tyr’s back, the Monstrous Nightmare seemingly having calmed down from the race. The sun was setting over the central ravine of Naugost, and Katsuki knew most people would be setting out for the Great Hall for dinner after the race.

He didn’t really feel like having his loss shoved in his face, so he set out for Brokeback Point, the furthest edge north of the island, where the cliffs were steep and no one dared to rest. Waves crashed against the steep red crags, the roar of the water helping to quiet the racing thoughts in his head.

His thoughts of you. He knew he needed to tell you eventually, but with how happy you seemed with Kirishima, he didn’t think he could ruin it. A sigh falls from his mouth as he rubs at his eyes, and Tyr lays down next to the chieftain’s son, resting his head on Katsuki’s lap.

Katsuki huffs once, but keeps his mouth shut, instead rubbing the dragon on his snout and watching the sunset to his west. It was peaceful, being out here alone. It was half the reason why Katsuki didn’t want to become chief.

He enjoyed his freedom, being able to fly off to other islands, and mark all the different kinds of dragons around, and what habitats they liked. He wanted to know if there were people around, and if they were going to be a threat to his home. To you.

It was so much, sometimes, being the chief’s son, and that’s why he found so much solace in you. You understood him better than anyone, you were there for him when he needed a shoulder to lean on.

That’s why he-

No. Katsuki’s crimson eyes flutter shut at the thought, his brow creasing into a frown. He couldn’t think those words about you, not yet at least. Not when you were wrapped up in the arms of another man.

The sound of wings flapping a moment later has his eyes snapping back open. It was the figure of a dragon that was headed straight for him, the sun setting behind the beast, only leaving the figure outlined by its silhouette.

Tyr raises his head but takes a deep breath to smell the air before relaxing his neck back to the ground and shutting his eyes to rest. Katsuki glances at the relaxed state of his dragon at the approaching shape in front of him.

A Nadder. Not just any Nadder. Gretta.

The purple-tinged dragon lands further inland than Katsuki and Tyr, and you slide off of her silently as you walk toward the pair. Katsuki sends a silent prayer to the gods to help him stay calm and normal as you walk up to him, a silent air about you.

“How did you find me,” is all he says. It’s not even worded as a question, it’s more an open-ended statement. Your face is stoic, but you take a step toward him, shrugging your shoulders once.

“I have a Deadly Nadder, remember? One of the best trackers out there. And,” you glance off toward the sunset, where you see a Thunderdrum jump up out of the water and fly off toward a distant island. But you continue, looking him straight in the eye, “You weren’t at dinner, and you didn’t seem okay when Kirishima showed up.”

Katsuki groans and turns away from you before muttering, “I don’t want to hear about that damn redhead.” You’re quiet, calculating a response. You don’t get the chance to say anything, because he pipes back up, “Listen, I know you’re here to tell me about how you accepted his courtship invitation. I’m happy for you.”

Katsuki’s voice was anything but happy though. It was strained, a tension to his voice you’d never heard, and you place a hand on his shoulder to try to get him to face you.

You try, “Kats-” “Just leave it,” he cuts you off and knocks your hand off of his shoulder, “I want you to be happy, even if that means you marry that big dumb blacksmith.” “Katsuki!” you yell, your eyes closing in frustration.

The blonde turns toward you then, shock evident on his features at the heightened sound of your voice. You sigh and take a step forward, facing him shoulder to shoulder.

You grab his right hand with your own, his palm rough and calloused from his training. Katsuki is silent as he watches you, his eyes sharp and waiting, not so different from Tyr’s fiery gaze.

“I didn’t,” you whisper. Katsuki’s red gaze bores into your own (colored) one, but no recognition flashes over his features, so you insist, “I didn’t, you know, accept his offer. I couldn’t.”

“Stop joking,” is all he replies with, moving to tug his hand out of your own, even though it's the last thing he wants to do. “Katsuki Bakugou, shut the hell up and listen to me,” you state firmly, your grip tightening on his large palm.

-Start music-

He freezes at the use of his full name and the curse words, something you never say, and you take the opportunity to thread your fingers through his own. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you, and you know how tense the moment is just by how still he is.

“I didn’t accept his offer,” you say again, and you shuffle on your feet as you squeeze his hand, “But I didn’t deny it either.” You can see the hope in his eyes start to fade out, the idea of you still wanting Kirishima lingering in his mind.

“Kirishima is nice,” you murmur, “He’s kind, and handsome.” You can feel Katsuki’s body harden at your praise of the redhead, but you continue, “He’s always nice to the dragons when fitting them at the smithery, and he even picks flowers with the village’s little girls.”

Katsuki shuts his eyes and whispers, “Please, Y/n, don’t tell me how much you like another man to my face,” and then they reopen and he finishes, “I don’t think my heart can take it.”

You just give him a smile and bring your intertwined hands up to rest over your heart. You hold his gaze evenly and you push, “Kirishima is great. But he’s not amazing.”

The blonde-haired man swallows thickly, but stays quiet as you mumble, “He’s not the chieftain’s son. He’s not a hardened viking that knows every in and out of our island.”

This catches Katsuki’s attention, and his eyes widen as your voice and words overtake his brain, “He’s not my best friend, he’s not the one who whoops my ass in axe-throwing competitions, and he’s not the one who takes me fishing in the summer.”

The smile is growing on your face, and you suddenly get shy and look down at your boots as you mumble out, “He’s not you, Katsuki.”

You hear your name fall off Katsuki’s lips, but you don’t look up. He says your name louder this time, using his free hand to cup your cheek and tilt your face up to meet his crimson gaze.

“What are you trying to say?” is what he says. He needed to know if you were saying what he thought you were trying to say.

You lean into his touch, somehow both familiar and foreign, there was a softness to this touch you’d never felt, and you gaze into his eyes as you utter, “It’s you, Kats. It’s always been me and you.”

You see his gaze soften, and the weight of you being with another lover is lifted off of his shoulders. He leans into you, his nose brushing against your own as his forehead rests against your own. You can feel a new, intense wave of butterflies rush through your stomach at the intimacy of this touch, one you’d never experienced before with anyone.

Katsuki’s voice comes out deep and gravelly when he asks, “Y/n, how will you have me? Will you have me as your own? Or just as-” “Shut up and kiss me already,” you rush out, pulling him closer to you by his shoulder.

A groan falls from his lips at your demand, but he’s not one to argue as he leans forward, capturing your lips for himself. It’s everything he’d ever imagined and more. It's different. Your mouth was sweet, the tang of apple cider hanging onto the edges of your lips.

You were warm against him, soft and pliable in his hands. Katsuki slides his hand from cupping your face to the back of your head, grabbing your neck, and pulling you flush against him. You gasp at the movement, and he takes that opportunity to deepen the kiss, his teeth coming to bite down on your lower lip before swiping his tongue across it as an apology.

The growls and rumbles of your dragons behind you make the two of you pull away, and while you swivel your head to look at the two peeping flying reptiles, Katsuki is left watching you.

When you turn back toward him, you see an intensity to his gaze that makes you lower your eyes, but he tuts and gains your attention before whispering, “Lady Y/n L/n of Island Naugost, will you do me the honors and go on a flight with me?”

You giggle at the cheesiness of his ask, something so out of character for him, but you nod with a wide grin and respond, “Chieftain-to-be Katsuki Bakugou of Island Naugost, I would love to go on a flight with you.”

He smirks down at you, leaning in slowly to press a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away, throwing out three short whistles, and bringing Tyr to your sides. He rubs your neck softly before releasing his grip on you, climbing up to sit in Tyr’s saddle before offering you his hand.

“Milady?” he asks, his fingers reaching for your own. You glance toward Gretta before looking back at the blonde waiting for you and you give her two short whistles, and she immediately heads back towards the mainland.

You clasp onto Kastsuki’s hand, and he pulls you up into the saddle behind him, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around his waist. Tyr reaches back to nuzzle your foot, and you smile down at the moody Monstrous Nightmare as you settle into your seat.

“Are you ready?” Katsuki checks in, glancing over his shoulder only to find you resting your chin on the pad of his armor. He feels his heart flutter in his chest at the distant look in your eyes, and turns back straight to hide the pink dusting his cheeks. And it wasn’t from the sunset.

Tyr shuffles to the edge of the cliff, the deep oranges from the sunset glinting in harmony with the deep red of his scales, and in a few large flaps of his wings, the three of you are airborne. Katsuki lets Tyr fly smoothly around several small islands and rocky outposts on the outskirts of the island, the only sound being the pull of air on your clothes, the flapping of wings, and crashing from the water below you.

While flying wasn’t new to you in any sense, there was something so intimate and caring about the way Katsuki flew Tyr around. You could feel the connection between the two of them, and while they disagreed occasionally, like earlier in the day at the race, you knew they had a deep and intricate bond.

You lean forward from where your chin was resting on Katsuki’s shoulder and gently press them against his cheek in a soft kiss. His cheek is warm under your touch, and he turns toward you as you pull away, his eyes catching the shyness in your own (colored) gaze.

“C'mere,” he mumbles, turning so that you could slide up and into his lap. He made sure Tyr was flying smoothly before pulling you around to sit in front of him, with your back to Tyr’s head.

You were facing Katsuki, and with the sun setting behind him, he was gorgeously backlit. His features were hardened, yes, but the soft light helped smooth out his usual frown and scowl. 

He looked down at you and brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear before whispering, “I’m not sure where we go from here, but we go together, alright?” You nod and offer him your hand, “When we get back to the Great Hall, I want us to be together.”

Katsuki cracks a smirk and taking your hand, mutters, “Hell, you can’t get rid of me now, Y/n/n, you’re stuck with me.” You giggle, which quickly becomes a playful scream as Katsuki grabs back onto Tyr’s horns and you are whisked off into the light of the dying sun.

A lifetime of memories of just being friends with Katsuki would remain at the front of your mind, but you were excited to see where this flight would take you. And while your future was uncertain with the tough blonde-haired viking, you knew that he was going to protect you until his last breath.

[nilsavatar]

DAY 17 - BEGGING

Parings: Jake x Fem!human

PART 2 of DAY 4 - CHOKING/SPANKING

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, SMUT in the end, alien sex, size difference, blowjob, restrains (wrists blocked with a belt), fingering, spanking, P in V, begging, use of pet names (babygirl, little girl, girlie, brat), dom Jake, age gap, difference in power, degradation, cheating, semi-public, mention of Lo'ak x oc. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: After a night of passion in the old shack, Jake shuts down any kind of interaction with Aubree (reader), who, unable to get the man out of her head, begins to waver about her goal to become Omatikaya. But just when she seems to have made up her mind to give up, the very man she wanted to escape from makes his entrance. He cannot stop thinking about her as well and, more furious than ever, imparts her a new punishment.

Inside you will find a hint of Lo'ak x OC. Let me know if you would like a version with him as well.

Word Count: 5,4k

Masterlist - Avatober - Request a fic

As soon as she re-emerged, the first thing she experienced was the uncomfortable sunlight flooding the room. She turned away to seek shelter from the day, stifling a grunt in her pillow. The second thing that stung her was the fresh smell of fabric softener permeating the sheets. She opened one eye, struggling to make out the contours of the room; a grey lacquered wardrobe, a bedside table, the photograph of her family. The noises beyond the door jolted her awake. She pulled herself up, rubbing one eye, and yawned. Memories of many nights before surfaced. As she regained lucidity, she bowed her head to look at her frame as if she did not recognize herself in the skin that had been her shell since birth. She was wearing the khaki shirt she had taken from the avatar assortment, which essentially served as her dress. She had put it on after jumping into the shower, hoping to shake off the chills Jake’s fingers had left as they ran all over her body.

The body of her avatar.

She ran a hand over where the man had spanked her, expecting to find a bruise or at least feel the sore area, but nothing.

The level of connection between the avatar and the human piloting it was astonishing, almost destabilizing. Experiencing every little thing through a puppet, which gave her back an exact replica of the ones it came into contact with; its sensory response to the environment, its impulses, and emotions. The information passed from one brain to the other, making it difficult to distinguish between which was generated by the real Aubree and which by the avatar. Dream and reality mixed together and there were times — always — when she felt more alive when her consciousness slipped into the artificial skeleton than when she was confined to her actual skin. All her senses were amplified during the link. Colors were brighter, her vision more receptive and with a wider range. Her senses sharper, her smell stronger. 

God, how good Jake’s scent was, so warm and sensual; the spicy notes blending with the woody ones like an embrace. 

No! Just forget about him.

When she returned to her limited human envelope, she found herself unfailingly myopic, deaf, anosmic, and... starving. The only thing to remind her that, yes, that was her reality and that organism also needed nourishment. And for a while, she could put aside the mess she had gotten herself into. She could stop pretending that everything was fine, that she didn’t feel used and thrown away after Lo’ak was assigned as her mentor once again (apparently no others were available, or maybe no one wanted him as a karyu).  As the weeks passed, more escapades like that followed, and a mounting guilt began to gnaw at her conscience, stronger with each one. Then nothing more. Jake must have grown tired of her.

Asshole. Like father, like son.

She tied her hair up with the elastic she always wore on her wrist and threw her legs off the bed, intent on getting up. After getting ready to start another day’s work, she slipped her badge into her pocket and went out. She walked down the corridor leading to the canteen, following the hustle and bustle that morning with her eyes and chewed on her lip, ignoring the slight anxiety that she might run into Jake. She still didn’t feel up to facing him. It was an entirely new situation for her, having wild sex on a couch with a married man of a good twenty years her senior. Promiscuity wasn’t unusual for the Na’vi, but heck he had a mate — and not just any clan woman — alongside a prominent position in the clan. He wasn’t exactly someone who could afford an exposure of this caliber, considering his alien origins. What had happened between them was something with the potential to split the tribe in two, as well as his family. It was like shoving in everyone’s face that he was missing his humanity, that the Na’vi ways were a tight fit for him.

She walked into the room and saw Lo’ak in front of the sink drinking a cup of coffee; she faced his back and stared at the muscular curve of his bare shoulders. It always amazed her to discover that Earth foods were edible for natives as well.

Did I really have sex with this guy’s father?

He was wearing clothing she had never seen him in before; leg guards covered his shins to above the knee, a warrior’s waistband, and his usual armbands. The moment her eyes lingered on his butt, Aubree cleared her throat and exclaimed a smiling, “Good morning!”  He turned, lowered his arm, and stared at her: he looked tired. He didn’t seem to have just woken up, yet he took her breath away all the same. Lo'ak was remarkably handsome. Tall, athletic, with a killer smile and warm, cunning eyes. The traits he inherited from his father were marked enough to make him somewhat familiar to her species, but recalled her all too well of the olo’eyktan. And honestly, after what they shared, the last thing she needed was the constant reminder of their little adventure and the coldness that followed.

“About time.” “Did I oversleep?” she asked in a chuckle, approaching and pointing at one of the chairs arranged around the table.  “Nah, it’s not even noon yet,” he retorted sarcastically, showing her his cup. “Time to finish this so I would come drag you out of bed.” “Seriously, how do you Na’vi always get up so early?” she rolled her eyes. “Rhythms of the village, there is no time to waste. Coffee?” he asked her and started fiddling with the machine. Was he in a sour mood? “Thanks.”  For a while, the only sound was the hum of coffee being brewed. Aubree drummed her fingers on the table, unsure of what to say.“Sorry, I was in desperate need of some rest. The extended bond with the avatar is really debilitating.” “Once you transfer your consciousness, this will all stop,” he grumbled, and she refused to acknowledge him.

Consciousness transfer. To admit that it terrified her was an understatement. She felt dizzy just thinking about it; the procedure posed a significant danger. What if Eywa had refused the passage through her eye if she had not considered her suitable? What If she would never have been able to separate herself from her human nature?

“No need to stress your pretty little head about it. You've still got a long way to go before you can be reborn in your new body. Let’s concentrate on overcoming the rituals so you can be part of the People. You don't wanna croak during the Iknimaya, right?” he said in that smooth, biting way that angered her. She was about to answer him harshly, but she froze and took a deep breath before his eyes. “I'm not up for arguing before breakfast.” “This is new.” He handed her a white cup and she grabbed it, thanking him. He looked at her, suddenly frowning. He was really in a bad mood, but she had no idea why. The woman brought her cup to her lips and blew on it, following his figure intent on wiping a cloth on the kitchen countertop. “No breakfast for you?” “I already had it, like, six hours ago,” he replied, not even glancing at her, and huffed. “Have a drink, at least. It's not a good idea to wait too long between meals. Snacks are crucial.” He turned and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so nosy about my diet?” “I’m just tryna get along with you. I can't keep changing tutors every other day,” she explained. “Says the crybaby who went whining to my dad because she didn’t fit in with my methods. Yet here you are.”

Touché.

“By the way. What happened with him? He never backed down from an assignment. He didn't quit, not even with me.” “Huh, nothing really. I guess I was one commitment too many in his busy schedule,” she lied, but Lo’ak wasn’t buying it. Anyhow, he shrugged and leaned against the counter, arms folded and legs crossed. “Ready to go?” “Are you trying to make me die of hunger in the pod?” she bounced him and he chuckled at last. She much preferred the sassy Lo’ak, rather than the testy one, not even having the confidence to investigate the reason.  “Anyway, our training today is called off.” “What?” “My research is way behind and I can't keep ignoring it.”

A lively flash of rage crossed the bottom of his eyes; his expression hard and his lips tight. “You have done nothing for weeks except work in the lab, or vegetate in your room.” Aubree sighed and rested her chin on her palm. “It was like ten days, tops.” “That’s not the point!” The beginnings of a roar vibrated in his chest. “You haven't made any headway since I started training you again. Wanna become Omatikaya, yes or no?” The realization hit her like a brick wall — she was speechless, not knowing what to say. Before she was so sure, she would have answered that question without hesitation, but now her conviction painfully falters. Working is all she did. She was doing what she knew, what kept her grounded, what she did best. Aubree was being a Ph.D. student; she was being… human. Shutting herself off from the world within those four walls.

Her voice faded to nothing, and she lowered her gaze: she must have sounded so pathetic. Lo'ak's tongue flapped parched against his palate. “Forget it. It was already too late to do anything today,” he scoffed, making an annoyed face, his tone laced with irritation. “Fine. But let's make it clear, no more beating around the bush. Starting tomorrow, it’s back to business, princess,” he snarled, shaking his head, and setting her back on her feet, giving her a resounding spank on her rear. “Now get your ass in the damn lab and keep your eyes glued to the microscope.” Aubree blinked, taken aback.

Beads of sweat soaked her hair. Sinking her nails into the back of the couch, she savored every second it took for his palm to collide with her now purple, sensitive skin, full of anticipation for that throbbing pain that triggered tremors of annihilating pleasure. Electric shocks surged down her spine, pooling in her lower abdomen, synchronized to an invisible rhythm that resonated solely within him. But the most beautiful thing was his quickened breathing and the snorting of laughter that followed her whimpers.

The woman clutched at the doorframe with trembling fingers, her chest heaving up and down with slight breathlessness. “What’s up with you?” He muttered, “Did I hurt you?” He wetted a hand under the jet of the sink and ran it over her heated forehead and then over her neck. She emitted a hiss at that contact, and the frown that had formed on his forehead distracted her from the flash of moments before. “You're all flushed. That’s all it took to turn you on?” he questioned, almost amused, and gave her a sidelong glance. “I forgot that you nerds are a bundle of kinks. Like brats with hormones raging.”

Well, that’s rich!

“I thought you were going back to the village,” she grunted, glaring at him. Lo’ak raised his arms in surrender before she could bark at him. “OK, OK! But these are the consequences of staying holed up in here. Do yourself a favor and get some fresh air from time to time. You're as white as a ghost.” She stared at him in silence before retorting sarcastically, “Thank you.” He raised an eyebrow and finally stretched his lips into a sly smirk.

“OK, let’s recap. Since Lo’ak was being a dick, the olo’eyktan offered to teach you. You guys were all flirty, and then he brought you to the abandoned lab. You had a fling and haven't seen each other since.” We had more than one, actually. “We weren’t exactly flirting,” she retorted crossly, and Liv shot her a sardonic grin.  “You’re totally screwed, if all you heard of the entire sentence was ‘flirty’.” Aubree rolled her eyes and settled herself better on the sofa. She checked the wall clock in the break room: another quarter-hour and she’d be back on her job. Liv understood exactly what she was thinking and turned serious. “Do you feel like talking about what’s bothering you? Besides the guilt, I mean.” She shrugged and bit her lip. “I don’t know. It’s a lot of stuff. I feel kinda crappy about Neytiri, but at the same time, I tell myself I shouldn’t because it’s no biggie for Na’vi to get physical outside of marriage; it doesn’t take away from their bond, and I might not be the only one. But then I’m like, whether he wants it, he is still somewhat human, and in our culture, that's cheating. Let's not even get started on the age, status, and Lo'ak situation. Oh, and this whole deal of becoming Omatikaya.” “Isn’t that what you want?” “... I have no idea anymore. Is it really that important? The consciousness transfer. My avatar being Omatikaya isn't enough? Honestly, what good could I do for the clan? I’m a researcher.” “I believe this is the heart of the matter. Do you hesitate because you think you are inadequate, or is it just his rejection making you hesitate?”

“You good to go back to HQ on your own?”

Anger surged through her gut at the thought of how he had dismissed her. Not even the decency to take her back. Perhaps she had to admit that a small part of her was disappointed, even though she already knew he was an inaccessible man for so many reasons. A man who should have remained in her fantasies.

Lo’ak is right. I’m still a teen in the throes of hormones.

“I anticipated it would happen with Lo’ak, to be perfectly honest.” Liv thought it better to rub it in her face. Aubree extended a leg, striking her thigh with her foot. “You better not say that again.” “Why? He's clearly into you. He would be a better choice than his father, don't you agree?” In response, the scientist sipped her tea very serenely. “Mm, nothing to say? Just a heads up, no insults or threats?” Didn't you tell me to stay away from him? “I’m going to be superior and won’t validate you.” “Oh. Oooooh, you fancy him as well, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

“Who are we talking about?” exclaimed a voice behind them. Out of surprise, they practically spilled the contents of their cups on the floor. “Mind announcing yourself when you walk into a room? You're so stealthy, you're gonna give me a heart attack, eventually.” “Rather, what do you have there?” Liv asked to throw Spider off the previous conversation. Something they adamantly did not want anyone to know, least of all the olo’eyktan’s son’s best friend. “Wasabi fries.” “Wasabi?! How do you get some of that here? Mind to share?” “Didn't you complain about gaining two kilos just a few days ago?”

“Excuse you?!” “What’d you say?!”

Spider looked at their menacing faces in disbelief before rolling his eyes and reaching for the bag. “I have yet to learn to shut up when you’re together.” Aubree held back a satisfied smirk, picking up a handful and heading for the door, already with a few in her mouth. "I'm gonna head back to my computer," she mumbled with her mouth full, trying to cut it short before the guy pushed her to speak. That would have been awkward. “Already?” “Lo’ak gave me an ultimatum, remember?” At the mere thought of having to return to the lab, with no other distraction from her predicament, that slimy feeling came up again, heavy as a rock.

Although her senses were limited as a human, she sensed the trail of his scent even before the sound of his footsteps reached her ears, as if she had registered it somewhere inside her; rapidly felt a start of breathlessness. Like a dog that drools at the sound of the bell, that has been associated with its meal. She looked up from the monitor and met Jake’s intense gaze. She forced herself to smile at him despite the loud voices in her head fighting for the upper hand. One was insulting him and admonishing her to get away from him, the other begging her to pounce on him. “What's the meaning of this?” His eyes hadn’t let go of her for a second and burned into her, although she couldn’t quite understand what they were hiding. I mean, it had been at least ten days since their last encounter and they hadn’t spoken since then, nor had they seen each other. Aubree had been careful not to be around him. Of course, she didn’t want to look like some doting student with a schoolgirl crush.  Too late.

Just as she was about to speak, Jake once again took the floor. “What the hell are you doing here, girlie?” The nickname was a real low blow. “I’m working,” she replied lightning-fast, trying to hide the slight concern that was rising as she focused on that paradoxical context. She tried not to make any shrill sounds as the man indignantly rotated the swivel chair she was sitting on and planted his face in front of her, dangerously close. “I was falling behind on my research.” Aubree almost huffed, ignoring the sinister glint the yellow of his eyes was painted with. What did he expect after his treatment? “What about your training?” He hissed then. “I took a few days,” she chimed in, wanting to bring that conversation to a close. “Lo'ak and I have decided that we'll be back to full strength tomorrow. Now if you don’t mind...” She walked towards the cooler with the samples to be analyzed, with every intention of making him take the hint. She was not pleased to see him.

Liar.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days.” Really? She squeaked internally. “Sorry for making you waste your precious time. As you can see, I’ve been busy,” she said with a hint of sourness. She felt him follow her with his gaze as she placed the slide under the lens and bent over the microscope. “I noticed,” his tone was ice-cold. “I take it you don’t give a damn about becoming one with the clan.” “Convenient, right? One less ketuwong (alien) to deal with,” she exclaimed, furrowing her brow. “What brings you here at this hour anyway, olo’eyktan? Your mate must be wondering where you are.”

She waited with her back to him for an answer that didn’t come, but when she turned to meet his eyes, she wished she hadn’t; wished she hadn’t opened her big mouth at all. Jake approached slowly, coming so close as to pin her against the table frame, she felt his breath on her face. This was cheating. Her mental capacity when he was this close was equal to zero. “I suggest you move your equipment out of the way,” he whispered, as piercing as a bullet whizzing through the air could be. “Why?” she asked stupidly, already out of breath. His magnetic gaze slid under her eyes and she licked her lips reflexively. “‘Cause when I’ll shush you, I won’t give a shit if I break something.” Her throat went dry, and a series of conflicting thoughts and questions crowded into her head. She did as he recommended. The bluish light of the monitors barely illuminated him, and that semi-darkness reminded her of the first night when he had taken her to the old shack. When he had spanked her like a naughty little girl. She took a good glance at him. He looked exhausted, with his tense shoulders and those deep circles under his eyes.

Aubree sighed: no, she couldn’t pretend. She couldn’t kick him out.

He moved away to give her room to move. “On the table,” he said without changing his expression. He sounded like he told her he wanted a glass of water, yet she shivered anyway and obeyed. He moved a few steps towards her and Aubree held her breath as he imprisoned her in his arms, his palms resting each on one side of her thighs. “Pull up your skirt.” Everything happened quickly, he stood between her legs and she could do nothing but stare at him from below, too astonished to produce any thoughts: he undid his waistband with deliberate slowness, completely at odds with the furious expression he apparently no longer held back. “You just love pissing me off, baby girl.” He almost seemed to snarl at her and something slimy crawled around her stomach as she watched him towering over her. Jake was right. There was something in the animalistic light that had shone on him that attracted her dangerously. He pulled his tewng down to his ankles. “Open your mouth.”

All the air eluded her lungs in a puff as soon as she absorbed that order. It didn’t take her more than a millisecond to realize what he wanted. A strange electricity coursed through her back and she straightened up on the table almost unconsciously until she was in line with his belly; at the right height. She inhaled and exhaled imperceptibly, before taking courage and looking up at him in defiance of shame. In defiance of him. Jake watched her from above and her frenzy probably increased as he gave himself a few shakes; Aubree licked her lips expectantly, discovering herself hungry. Feeling their hands join, Jake raised an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth lifted. She took him in her hand, hesitating just enough that the man sank a hand into her hair and pulled her forward: a sweet rush clutched her intestines.

“What if someone walked in?” “They’d enjoy the show.” “What if your son or wife came in?”  “Neytiri never comes here,” he tugged her. Aubree parted her lips and let him slide on her tongue, sighing as she felt his strong taste. She let him guide her movements, wanting to understand what he liked and how; meanwhile, the rough way he was thrusting all the way in, his grip tight behind the nape of her neck, his breathing getting heavier and coarser, everything was driving her crazy. She went toward him until she felt the tip against her throat and tears slipping down her cheeks and had to rest her hands on his thighs.

“Shit.”

A powerful gasp caused her to glance up at him once more, as he stared down at her with a wild, languid look. His lips agape and his breathing broken. She couldn’t hold back a sigh, feeling him contract on her tongue in reflex. She felt herself plummet into another world and increased the rhythm, sucking hard. In a flash, he pushed her away, and Aubree didn’t even have time to catch her breath as he smothered her with an ardent kiss. She grabbed his shoulders, trying to drag him off her, but he resisted and had little hope against his strength. He pulled away, pulling her lower lip with his teeth, and then moved to her jaw and left ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps where his lips passed. Aubree’s thoughts were clouded and her heart was racing.

“Strip,” he whispered overbearingly to her before pulling himself up. Another order that upset her tummy. She was out of breath, her panties soaked and shivering on her skin without even being touched. No one had ever done that to her; she had never enjoyed giving pleasure to another, much less obeying them. Aubree stood up, despite her now jelly muscles, and stared at him, fully reciprocating the intensity of his gaze as she curled her fingers around the hem of her blouse and pulled it up to slip it off. Jake hissed as soon as she was totally uncovered, perhaps because she hadn’t worn a bra once again and her locks fell free over her shoulders. With no shame, she flashed him a smirk under her lust-darkened eyes; she couldn’t be embarrassed if he stared at her like that. Her pencil skirt slid down her legs along with her thong, leaving them on the floor. Jake bridged the distance between them and grabbed her face, but being very careful not to kiss her. Again the no kiss rule of last time. He seemed irritated by the way she stared at him defiantly, waiting for his moves.

“You’re pissing me off, baby girl.” She almost purred as soon as that obnoxious nickname caressed her ears. God, how she loved it. “Why don’t you do something about it, then?” she taunted him anew. She couldn’t help it. Something inside her was tempted to stand up to him. The woman furrowed her brows and her breath caught as he casually slipped the belt out of the loops of her skirt. He tugged at her wrists, wrapping the surrounding belt, and fastened the buckle in the tightest possible hole. Next, he turned her back with a snap. Aubree gasped, remembering the spanking from the previous time when she felt him bend over, just before he grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. She couldn’t even resist as he vehemently slid something silky between her lips and let out a surprised moan. Her panties. “That'll do for now,” he growled, letting go of her grip on her hair to incline her over the table, joining his fingers to her bottom. She breathed through her nose faster and faster, feeling exposed, helpless, and mortified. The student perceived only his body and his voice. Everything else in the world had disappeared. Someone could have walked in for real, but she wouldn’t have noticed, so absorbed in their own little bubble. Just when she was trying to relax, his palm slapped her buttock, and she cried out, her voice muffled by the fabric of her underwear. She hated how this treatment eager her to no end: it was completely irrational. He spanked her again. Aubree lost count of how many times he did it. She could only realize the burning pain on her skin fused with an electric sensation that made her toes curl and her back arch. Finally, at last, his fingers trailed down her flushed cheeks and brushed the folds of her intimacy. He stroked her clit, but it was a fleeting, light contact as if he was mocking her. And so he probably was. Aubree stifled the sound of protest that was about to escape her, but the amused snort he blew into the back of her head made her understand her efforts were futile; he could pick up even the slightest reaction of her body. He was in complete control of her.

The other hand ran down her back until it tightened its grip on her neck. He withdrew it up in a fluid movement, and then slid it down to her mouth to take the fabric from her teeth. The woman gasped loudly as she grabbed her breath, just in time for his index and middle fingers to work their way between her lips. One finger alone had, to say the least, the same circumference as two human male fingers. She opened her mouth and felt his giant fingertips caressed her tongue at exactly the same time as he penetrated her with his digits and bowed her back in reflex, moaning shamefully aloud. “You pathetic little girl.” Jake blew almost amusedly into her ear as he picked up a cadenced rhythm, and she bent her head back. Into the darkness, seeking more contact against a body three times the size of hers, shuddering even more at the inability to move, he twirled his fingers inside her, stimulating a point that took her whiff away and made every muscle tense. As if he read her mind, the man increased his speed, making sure to touch that spot with such precision that she felt her orgasm rise like a wave. It was at that moment that he stopped; his hands slipping away. She felt so, so empty. 

“Jake...!” You asshole.

Frustrated, she tried to free her wrists, but he pushed her forward on the desk, her cheek pressed against the icy surface, completely at his mercy. She was about to give up any form of pride and beg him to untie her, but was interrupted by her own cry as he penetrated her, slamming their hips together and stooping to clamp a hand around her throat. The burning that flooded her at that sudden stretching, so extensive that, for a split second, it seemed to rip through the flesh, went straight to her head. Jake moved in that rough way of his and Aubree realized how much she had missed him. Consumed with the desire to enclose him with her legs and arms, to scratch his back and watch at his face. That was yet another punishment, taking her from behind without giving her the opportunity to steal his most forbidden expressions. To steal his kisses and moans. As he pushed deep inside her, surprising himself that he could fit in such a tiny body, everything dissolved and became undefined. Aubree was a weeping mass of saliva and whines beneath him. Suddenly, she felt his breath against her ear.

“Apologise,” he growled, and his hand descended to cup one breast and then go over and start jerking her off as if she wasn’t already at her limit. She sobbed in response, opening her lips and trying to articulate something rational. “...S-sorry,” came out simply before a mighty thrust made her inarcate. She felt the orgasm building anew in her belly and she closed her eyes, desperately praying that he would let her come. “Please, forgive me.” “Say you’ll never skip training again.” “Yes.” “Yes, what?” “I’ll never skip a day of training again!”

He bit her neck and welcomed his sudden increase in furious speed: it was the last straw. The knot in her abdomen melted, and she was overwhelmed by a wave of liquid glee that spread through every single nerve ending. She writhed against the desk, tense, before collapsing immediately afterwards without any energy left. Jake came soon after her and rested for several seconds his forehead on her sweaty back, catching his breath. She blinked her damp eyelashes and stared exhaustedly at the door, immersed in a contented bubble of bamboozlement that couldn’t quite shield her fear of being detected anymore. She then sensed his hands reach for her wrists, on which she was leaning clumsily, and help her up to undo her belt buckle.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a murmur, running his thumb over the slight red mark that was surfacing on her skin. Aubree turned her head towards the warmth of his chest behind her back: his face was so close, his scent everywhere. “I’m fine,” she answered in an almost hoarse voice. How much had she shouted? A vague embarrassment washed over her as she brought about the last forty minutes. But she was far too exhausted and tired to give it the importance it deserved. He was about to let go of her hands when she clasped her fingers to his; Jake looked at her circumspectly and with a glimmer of hesitation, because she was begging him with her eyes to stay. “You know I can’t. Do you need me to walk you to your room?”  “That would be way too sketchy.” He nodded, once, dressed, and headed for the door, but before he crossed the threshold, he said something that shocked her.

“Lo'ak deeply cares for you. If you wish to pick him as your mate after Unitaron, you have our approval.” And he left.